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 South Africa and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tres Demented to the funk 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Birthday Party,
Con Funk Shun,
Suburban Knight,
Sällskapet,
Khruangbin,
Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Star Department,
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
AZ,
U.S. Maple,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
Lightning Bolt,
Y Pants,
Gerry Rafferty,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
Lower 48,
Absolute Body Control,
Patti Smith,
Quantec,
Minny Pops,
T. Rex,
Michelle Simonal,
Animal Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Glambeats Corp.,
Little Man,
Marvin Gaye,
Donald Byrd,
Half Japanese,
John Cale,
This Heat,
Mantronix,
The Monochrome Set,
the Bar-Kays,
Sonic Youth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats,
Howard Jones,
Sight & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.