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 Slovenia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Symarip to the punk 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Scion,
Fluxion,
Scrapy,
Camberwell Now,
Pulsallama,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
a-ha,
Sex Pistols,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dead Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
The Slits,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
Gang Starr,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills,
Eddi Front,
Dorothy Ashby,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
Lalann,
Moebius,
Banda Bassotti,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Sherman,
Toni Rubio,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Star Department,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Litter,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
the Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Durutti Column,
Steve Hackett,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantytec,
Ohio Players,
Ultra Naté,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Womack,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.