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 Austria and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Cramps to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Circle Jerks,
Joyce Sims,
The Barracudas,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter & Gordon,
Bush Tetras,
a-ha,
Kayak,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
Byron Stingily,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
The Walker Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
The Evens,
Joy Division,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Warren Ellis,
Wire,
John Lydon,
The Cowsills,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flipper,
The Angels of Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Zeros,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Glenn Branca,
T.S.O.L.,
cv313,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Remains,
X-101,
Blossom Toes,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fall,
Janne Schatter,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rekid,
Connie Case,
Black Bananas,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.