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 Japan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Unwound,
Slick Rick,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Saccharine Trust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
Dead Boys,
Bill Wells,
Nirvana,
Nico,
Lightning Bolt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moleskins,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Urselle,
Joensuu 1685,
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxette,
Parry Music,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Smiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Desert Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
Smog,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dark Day,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Joe Smooth,
Vainqueur,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.