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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Fat Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
Howard Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Rakim,
LL Cool J,
Symarip,
A Certain Ratio,
Sarah Menescal,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
Sexual Harrassment,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rekid,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rites of Spring,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
The Sound,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
Bluetip,
T.S.O.L.,
Nirvana,
Cal Tjader,
Patti Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ituana,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Barrington Levy,
Faraquet,
The Blackbyrds,
In Retrospect,
Dawn Penn,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dave Gahan,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
The Zeros,
Donald Byrd,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Almond,
Kas Product,
Audionom,
Lower 48,
Josef K,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tommy Roe,
Albert Ayler,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.