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 St Lucia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Ossler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Saints,
the Sonics,
Oneida,
Funkadelic,
Charles Mingus,
Roxy Music,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
The Human League,
Black Moon,
Public Enemy,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rotary Connection,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blues Magoos,
Leonard Cohen,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
Isaac Hayes,
Gichy Dan,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
June Days,
Deakin,
Chrome,
Television Personalities,
Althea and Donna,
Fluxion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young,
Kerri Chandler,
The Angels of Light,
Harpers Bizarre,
MDC,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Joy Division,
Hardrive,
Fela Kuti,
Dave Gahan,
The Smoke,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
Yellowson,
June of 44,
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.