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 the UAE and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Busters,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Albert Ayler,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Cecil Taylor,
Iggy Pop,
Prince Buster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
Von Mondo,
Brand Nubian,
Scrapy,
MC5,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bizarre Inc.,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
K-Klass,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
Suicide,
Reagan Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Monolake,
Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Tim Buckley,
Gabor Szabo,
Depeche Mode,
New Age Steppers,
F. McDonald,
JFA,
Pylon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Motorama,
Los Fastidios,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Average White Band,
X-101,
Soft Machine,
Symarip,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Au Pairs,
Deadbeat,
Rotary Connection,
Lyres,
The Modern Lovers,
Cymande,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.