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 Mexico and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Toasters to the punk 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monochrome Set,
The Zeros,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smoke,
The Motions,
Ronan,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
X-Ray Spex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eurythmics,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Wells,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
Pere Ubu,
Model 500,
David Axelrod,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Grauzone,
Kayak,
Soul Sonic Force,
Unrelated Segments,
Scrapy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tommy Roe,
Rekid,
Dave Gahan,
Judy Mowatt,
Boz Scaggs,
Jacques Brel,
Half Japanese,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
The Human League,
Aswad,
Section 25,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
Lakeside,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fad Gadget,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moss Icon,
Ponytail,
X-102,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.