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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Godley & Creme to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun City Girls,
Harmonia,
Yaz,
Mission of Burma,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
The Standells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
A Certain Ratio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
Rotary Connection,
Brick,
The Wake,
The Zeros,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ice-T,
Oneida,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Wasted Youth,
David Bowie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DJ Style,
Idris Muhammad,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sarah Menescal,
Rekid,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
Section 25,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Angels of Light,
Eurythmics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stockholm Monsters,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Howard Jones,
Technova,
Hardrive,
The Dave Clark Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fela Kuti,
Groovy Waters,
The Modern Lovers,
Drexciya,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.