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 Madagascar and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joyce Sims 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
June Days,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
Subhumans,
Sun City Girls,
B.T. Express,
Todd Terry,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Wyatt,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
Stetsasonic,
Ultra Naté,
The Move,
Yellowson,
Danielle Patucci,
UT,
The Litter,
The Techniques,
Harmonia,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Altered Images,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Young Marble Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
The Last Poets,
Bronski Beat,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donald Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Knickerbockers,
The American Breed,
Hoover,
Anakelly,
DJ Sneak,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Ken Boothe,
Buzzcocks,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.