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 Kosovo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sixth Finger to the rap 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Gladiators,
Adolescents,
The Fuzztones,
Accadde A,
Fatback Band,
Mantronix,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eli Mardock,
The Knickerbockers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jawbox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Index,
Schoolly D,
Wings,
Outsiders,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Altered Images,
The Evens,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Metal Thangz,
KRS-One,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ituana,
Infiniti,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Unrelated Segments,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donald Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Pop Group,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Barracudas,
Mad Mike,
Peter & Gordon,
Newcleus,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cheater Slicks,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.