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 Namibia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Faraquet,
Reagan Youth,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fugs,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound,
Marvin Gaye,
X-101,
Cheater Slicks,
Pantytec,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick Morgan,
The Smiths,
Interpol,
Black Moon,
The Dead C,
Franke,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doors,
Eli Mardock,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Beau Brummels,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
Magma,
Pantaleimon,
Rosa Yemen,
The New Christs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
Wally Richardson,
Rufus Thomas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
Robert Hood,
Au Pairs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arcadia,
Delta 5,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
Fela Kuti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eve St. Jones,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Ken Boothe,
Hardrive,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.