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 Saudi Arabia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Grey Daturas 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yazoo,
James White and The Blacks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scan 7,
Grey Daturas,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Colin Newman,
Black Sheep,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Trumans Water,
The Evens,
Saccharine Trust,
The Buckinghams,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
The Residents,
Little Man,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Coltrane,
Fear,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barry Ungar,
The Kinks,
Blancmange,
The Grass Roots,
Nirvana,
Hashim,
Pussy Galore,
One Last Wish,
DJ Style,
Brothers Johnson,
Technova,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Das Ding,
The Knickerbockers,
The Wake,
Roxette,
Scrapy,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Steve Hackett,
The Divine Comedy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pierre Henry,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.