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 Chad and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rites of Spring to the techno 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
New Order,
The Litter,
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
a-ha,
Sun Ra,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Erasure,
Heaven 17,
Ultravox,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Osbourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boz Scaggs,
Gerry Rafferty,
D'Angelo,
The Birthday Party,
Bad Manners,
Dennis Brown,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sparks,
Massinfluence,
Scan 7,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
Tommy Roe,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Move,
The Evens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
The Grass Roots,
Accadde A,
Slick Rick,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ornette Coleman,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
Little Man,
Schoolly D,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
The United States of America,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gap Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.