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 Benin and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crash Course in Science,
Soft Machine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oneida,
Funky Four + One,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
The American Breed,
Sister Nancy,
10cc,
Qualms,
New Age Steppers,
The Zeros,
Second Layer,
Kerrie Biddell,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neil Young,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection,
Radio Birdman,
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Royal Trux,
Stetsasonic,
The Dirtbombs,
Khruangbin,
Banda Bassotti,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Joyce Sims,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Vladislav Delay,
New Order,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
Graham Central Station,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.