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 East Timor and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Howard Jones to the punk 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
Ultra Naté,
Tears for Fears,
The Neon Judgement,
Panda Bear,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Womack,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Niagra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics,
Intrusion,
Bootsy Collins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kaleidoscope,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Morten Harket,
Jandek,
Faust,
EPMD,
Main Source,
Adolescents,
The Grass Roots,
Yellowson,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
Johnny Osbourne,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Althea and Donna,
The Five Americans,
John Coltrane,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
The Invisible,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.