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 Honduras and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Black Dice,
The Remains,
Joensuu 1685,
Radiopuhelimet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
48th St. Collective,
Supertramp,
Tommy Roe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
JFA,
Quando Quango,
Tom Boy,
Hot Snakes,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang On A Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monks,
The Count Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
kango's stein massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mantronix,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
Matthew Halsall,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cowsills,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monolake,
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Sneak,
Skarface,
New York Dolls,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Peter & Gordon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Ludus,
Arab on Radar,
Slave,
Heaven 17,
Y Pants,
Basic Channel,
Aswad,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.