Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ice-T to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The United States of America,
Funky Four + One,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Bush Tetras,
Rekid,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Niagra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aloha Tigers,
The Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Skaos,
Country Teasers,
The Star Department,
New Age Steppers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf,
cv313,
Goldenarms,
The Trojans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Severed Heads,
June Days,
Little Man,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
kango's stein massive,
Andrew Hill,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Almond,
Smog,
Warsaw,
The Busters,
John Foxx,
The Slits,
Ultravox,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.