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 China and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
Au Pairs,
Deakin,
AZ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mark Hollis,
Thee Headcoats,
Das Ding,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monks,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lindisfarne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radio Birdman,
Kayak,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Adolescents,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
Yaz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slits,
Connie Case,
One Last Wish,
Circle Jerks,
The Evens,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Fela Kuti,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Happenings,
Johnny Osbourne,
Duran Duran,
Ken Boothe,
Depeche Mode,
Con Funk Shun,
The Motions,
Average White Band,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dead C,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Von Mondo,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.