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 Cameroon and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Gabor Szabo,
Bad Manners,
Suicide,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
John Holt,
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
Eve St. Jones,
Fad Gadget,
Banda Bassotti,
Pierre Henry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Guru Guru,
Soul II Soul,
X-102,
Cybotron,
Whodini,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
The Golliwogs,
Matthew Bourne,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Das Ding,
The Buckinghams,
Frankie Knuckles,
Excepter,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fire Engines,
Pole,
Faraquet,
FM Einheit,
The Gladiators,
Aaron Thompson,
Tom Boy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Sheep,
Khruangbin,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Wings,
World's Most,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
U.S. Maple,
Matthew Halsall,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
Eric Copeland,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Gang Starr,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.