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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Nico,
Darondo,
Toni Rubio,
Pylon,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Count Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scientists,
Banda Bassotti,
Agitation Free,
Japan,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacob Miller,
Lucky Dragons,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rites of Spring,
Thee Headcoats,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
Minny Pops,
Gang Green,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Au Pairs,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
T. Rex,
Schoolly D,
Gang of Four,
Cybotron,
the Bar-Kays,
Sugar Minott,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick Morgan,
Royal Trux,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.