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 Congo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Unrelated Segments to the funk 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Standells,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül II,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hot Snakes,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scion,
Ludus,
Dark Day,
The J.B.'s,
The Victims,
Interpol,
Marc Almond,
Letta Mbulu,
Reagan Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q65,
Marine Girls,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
MDC,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
Desert Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
The Monochrome Set,
Rekid,
The Neon Judgement,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
Cybotron,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Suicide,
Eden Ahbez,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
Donny Hathaway,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.