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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Clear Light to the disco 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jawbox,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Blossom Toes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
Rekid,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Rundgren,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arab on Radar,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aural Exciters,
Tom Boy,
Shoche,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tres Demented,
Ituana,
Barry Ungar,
Masters at Work,
Silicon Teens,
Amazonics,
Bauhaus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eli Mardock,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kas Product,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
Zapp,
Quantec,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
U.S. Maple,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
cv313,
Iggy Pop,
The Skatalites,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spandau Ballet,
Easy Going,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Standells,
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.