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 Malaysia and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter and Kerry,
Rotary Connection,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Can,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed,
Massinfluence,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Womack,
UT,
John Cale,
Dennis Brown,
Crime,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang On A Can,
The Black Dice,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Parrish,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
LL Cool J,
Soulsonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sister Nancy,
Smog,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Monks,
Todd Terry,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Harry Pussy,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.