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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 This Heat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Public Enemy,
June of 44,
Von Mondo,
The Zeros,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Severed Heads,
Dawn Penn,
Glenn Branca,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fuzztones,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smiths,
Silicon Teens,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
PIL,
Jeff Lynne,
The United States of America,
Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Make Up,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeff Mills,
Crispy Ambulance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
R.M.O.,
Livin' Joy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Moon,
Scion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Q65,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.