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 Belize and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer 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 Mission of Burma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Soft Machine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gun Club,
The Raincoats,
Janne Schatter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultra Naté,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
The Flesh Eaters,
June Days,
Eric Copeland,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
The Tremeloes,
Erykah Badu,
Ludus,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
The Slackers,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
Lakeside,
The Doors,
David McCallum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Freddie Wadling,
Unwound,
In Retrospect,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Interpol,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Five Americans,
China Crisis,
The Grass Roots,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
Nick Fraelich,
Camouflage,
The Evens,
Tomorrow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
The Selecter,
Faraquet,
Arthur Verocai,
The Black Dice,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.