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 St Lucia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 T.S.O.L. to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Golliwogs,
Connie Case,
Mandrill,
the Slits,
Scan 7,
Niagra,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crime,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Bourne,
Severed Heads,
The Toasters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
D'Angelo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
the Germs,
One Last Wish,
Radio Birdman,
Von Mondo,
Boz Scaggs,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
R.M.O.,
Symarip,
Ice-T,
Boogie Down Productions,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Almond,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Count Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.