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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Fat Boys,
Das Ding,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
Terry Callier,
AZ,
Fear,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aural Exciters,
The Count Five,
Joyce Sims,
MC5,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lightning Bolt,
The Birthday Party,
Lakeside,
Royal Trux,
China Crisis,
Donald Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Skriet,
The Litter,
Matthew Bourne,
Japan,
The Doors,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sound,
Gong,
Brick,
In Retrospect,
The Golliwogs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Near,
Joensuu 1685,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erasure,
Faust,
Bobby Womack,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Massinfluence,
The Motions,
Chrome,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.