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 Iceland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Cowsills to the disco 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Tears for Fears,
Wally Richardson,
Gang of Four,
Bush Tetras,
Faraquet,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
Scientists,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Moon,
Black Pus,
Mo-Dettes,
Marvin Gaye,
Barrington Levy,
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Eric B and Rakim,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare,
Robert Wyatt,
La Düsseldorf,
KRS-One,
The Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
Aural Exciters,
Cal Tjader,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Masters at Work,
Sam Rivers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Quantec,
Bootsy Collins,
Thee Headcoats,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
Underground Resistance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
The Gun Club,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
The Busters,
Boredoms,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.