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 Bahrain and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Johnny Clarke to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Masters at Work,
Symarip,
Aswad,
Sparks,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
Chrome,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Scion,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
ABBA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tommy Roe,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Von Mondo,
Radio Birdman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
Erykah Badu,
Donny Hathaway,
New York Dolls,
Robert Hood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visage,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Busters,
Gong,
Yazoo,
Lakeside,
Scott Walker,
Patti Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warsaw,
Graham Central Station,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gories,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boredoms,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lungfish,
Easy Going,
Jacob Miller,
Dead Boys,
Zapp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Junior Murvin,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.