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 Burundi and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lyres,
Tim Buckley,
The Evens,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agitation Free,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scratch Acid,
the Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nico,
Amazonics,
D'Angelo,
June of 44,
Pantaleimon,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ken Boothe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Duran Duran,
48th St. Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
The Walker Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Infiniti,
Jawbox,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moleskins,
The Five Americans,
Saccharine Trust,
Sound Behaviour,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Q and Not U,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Spandau Ballet,
Rotary Connection,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Kinks,
U.S. Maple,
Crash Course in Science,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Style,
The Cowsills,
Robert Görl,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.