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 Nauru and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sonics to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Aloha Tigers,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Lynne,
The Black Dice,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
The Remains,
Sun Ra,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
Barrington Levy,
Charles Mingus,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare,
Bad Manners,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantaleimon,
The Names,
Electric Prunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
The Red Krayola,
Clear Light,
The American Breed,
Vainqueur,
Minutemen,
The Fall,
Minnie Riperton,
Sparks,
Rhythm & Sound,
China Crisis,
Schoolly D,
K-Klass,
Scientists,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Dawn Penn,
Ronan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hashim,
Franke,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
The Last Poets,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brothers Johnson,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.