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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 ABBA to the crunk 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
The Saints,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Pagans,
Kerri Chandler,
Zero Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Panda Bear,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Lungfish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang of Four,
Nas,
Eli Mardock,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Fraelich,
K-Klass,
Barry Ungar,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Brick,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
Ice-T,
Blossom Toes,
The Tremeloes,
The Stooges,
B.T. Express,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Qualms,
Shuggie Otis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nils Olav,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bad Manners,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Japan,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.