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 Azerbaijan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Supertramp to the rap 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Duran Duran,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Barracudas,
Tommy Roe,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Icehouse,
Smog,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacob Miller,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Procol Harum,
New Order,
The Cure,
Gabor Szabo,
Ponytail,
Barbara Tucker,
Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Half Japanese,
Sun Ra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Pussy Galore,
Rosa Yemen,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
MC5,
Roger Hodgson,
Marmalade,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magazine,
Schoolly D,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minny Pops,
Zapp,
Deakin,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Con Funk Shun,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
David McCallum,
The Fire Engines,
Main Source,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.