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 Burkina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Thompson Twins to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
John Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
The Divine Comedy,
The Motions,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dave Gahan,
The Seeds,
Urselle,
Kayak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Buckinghams,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
World's Most,
Warren Ellis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
Altered Images,
Wire,
The Black Dice,
Rod Modell,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Suburban Knight,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Chrome,
Tears for Fears,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Victims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Quando Quango,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aswad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suicide,
Q and Not U,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
Cymande,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.