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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Funky Four + One to the jazz 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Tres Demented,
Young Marble Giants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Max Romeo,
Michelle Simonal,
Nils Olav,
The Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eve St. Jones,
The Martian,
Masters at Work,
Country Teasers,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Womack,
The Count Five,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
Althea and Donna,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liliput,
The Remains,
Skaos,
Panda Bear,
Massinfluence,
The Raincoats,
Joe Smooth,
Bob Dylan,
The Human League,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pantaleimon,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
The Mummies,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Easy Going,
Albert Ayler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.