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 Yemen and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Skriet to the electroclash 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Saints,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brass Construction,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacob Miller,
H. Thieme,
Pantaleimon,
Bill Near,
X-102,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
Pole,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantytec,
Mr. Review,
Michelle Simonal,
Radio Birdman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Walker Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sam Rivers,
Second Layer,
Eden Ahbez,
Ice-T,
The Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tim Buckley,
New Age Steppers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
10cc,
New Order,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
Rod Modell,
cv313,
The Divine Comedy,
Erykah Badu,
Sandy B,
Whodini,
Fugazi,
Nirvana,
Au Pairs,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Sherman,
R.M.O.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Red Krayola,
Cecil Taylor,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy Collins,
Freddie Wadling,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.