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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 KRS-One to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
The Mojo Men,
Al Stewart,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Massinfluence,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q and Not U,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Thompson Twins,
The Misunderstood,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Maleditus Sound,
Das Ding,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Can,
Harmonia,
Loose Ends,
China Crisis,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Wings,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Bronski Beat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Clarke,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
Fatback Band,
The Tremeloes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Black Dice,
Bob Dylan,
Colin Newman,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
The Leaves,
Joe Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.