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 Yemen and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Visage,
The Invisible,
Motorama,
Soft Machine,
John Coltrane,
Kayak,
Section 25,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smiths,
Fela Kuti,
The Toasters,
La Düsseldorf,
Derrick May,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thompson Twins,
Sun City Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Slick Rick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amon Düül II,
Sixth Finger,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roger Hodgson,
cv313,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
Lou Christie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cal Tjader,
Wasted Youth,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fluxion,
Index,
Jerry's Kids,
Erykah Badu,
Kas Product,
Underground Resistance,
Trumans Water,
Minnie Riperton,
Scientists,
Ituana,
Arthur Verocai,
Rotary Connection,
Groovy Waters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Golliwogs,
Joensuu 1685,
This Heat,
The Fuzztones,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.