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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pussy Galore to the dance 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Eden Ahbez,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
Agent Orange,
Mantronix,
Ponytail,
The Wake,
Donny Hathaway,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Bang On A Can,
Half Japanese,
Deadbeat,
Bauhaus,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cecil Taylor,
Thee Headcoats,
Mad Mike,
Masters at Work,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Intrusion,
the Sonics,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Dead Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Colin Newman,
Robert Görl,
Nico,
The Techniques,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hardrive,
The Move,
The Smiths,
the Swans,
Donald Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.