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 Italy and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Searchers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
China Crisis,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Martian,
Roy Ayers,
Ponytail,
Bang On A Can,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Slackers,
Symarip,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Absolute Body Control,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Terry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sugar Minott,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cure,
Eddi Front,
Slick Rick,
The Divine Comedy,
Kenny Larkin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fugazi,
EPMD,
Funky Four + One,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cal Tjader,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Bronski Beat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Techniques,
Index,
Aswad,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
Ice-T,
The Raincoats,
The Litter,
Warren Ellis,
Cluster,
Crash Course in Science,
Half Japanese,
Sandy B,
Anthony Braxton,
Altered Images,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.