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 Poland and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bobby Byrd to the rock 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Derrick Morgan,
Model 500,
The Fire Engines,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
Fad Gadget,
Magazine,
The Happenings,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pole,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cure,
Andrew Hill,
Make Up,
David Bowie,
the Swans,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Martian,
Derrick May,
Sister Nancy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
10cc,
Traffic Nightmare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vladislav Delay,
Ohio Players,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
Dead Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
Royal Trux,
Eric Copeland,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
PIL,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Wally Richardson,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
D'Angelo,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Henry Cow,
Zero Boys,
Pulsallama,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.