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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Second Layer to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nation of Ulysses,
Toni Rubio,
Rotary Connection,
Barrington Levy,
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Davy DMX,
Pantytec,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Wake,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
Rhythm & Sound,
K-Klass,
Mark Hollis,
Half Japanese,
Duran Duran,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Marc Almond,
the Slits,
Susan Cadogan,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cowsills,
Icehouse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
The Busters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Slits,
Jeff Mills,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric B and Rakim,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.