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 Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
the Bar-Kays,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mo-Dettes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eurythmics,
Brass Construction,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Intrusion,
Marc Almond,
La Düsseldorf,
Mission of Burma,
The Trojans,
Angry Samoans,
Juan Atkins,
JFA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minor Threat,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
The Offenders,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
Grey Daturas,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Hashim,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suicide,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Excepter,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Nick Fraelich,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Ornette Coleman,
Sound Behaviour,
Eve St. Jones,
Stereo Dub,
Delon & Dalcan,
China Crisis,
Skaos,
Bobby Sherman,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Monks,
Television Personalities,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.