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 Costa Rica and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amon Düül II,
Drexciya,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grey Daturas,
The Happenings,
Slick Rick,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kenny Larkin,
Desert Stars,
Technova,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fire Engines,
D'Angelo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Star Department,
Cal Tjader,
X-102,
Yusef Lateef,
The Pop Group,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Shuggie Otis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Association,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crispian St. Peters,
Swell Maps,
The Music Machine,
Siglo XX,
Procol Harum,
Main Source,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rapeman,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Panda Bear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Doors,
Camouflage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Kinks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers,
Sun City Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Finger,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.