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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 June of 44 to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Amon Düül II,
Dawn Penn,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalann,
Grey Daturas,
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Intrusion,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
Leonard Cohen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
The Dead C,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Con Funk Shun,
The Evens,
Aural Exciters,
Quadrant,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
Wire,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Average White Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Schoolly D,
Iggy Pop,
The Wake,
Henry Cow,
Carl Craig,
Underground Resistance,
Rekid,
Niagra,
The Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Style,
Tim Buckley,
Warsaw,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.