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 Romania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Tres Demented to the rock 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Skarface,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
The Fugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Silicon Teens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Intrusion,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
AZ,
The Move,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
Adolescents,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
The Pretty Things,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Pussy Galore,
Lucky Dragons,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
Todd Rundgren,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
Erykah Badu,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Duran Duran,
The Mojo Men,
Scrapy,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Guru Guru,
Monolake,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Slave,
The Selecter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy Collins,
The Count Five,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.