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 Thailand and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Metal Thangz,
Masters at Work,
Marc Almond,
Iggy Pop,
Joey Negro,
Babytalk,
Sam Rivers,
Shuggie Otis,
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispian St. Peters,
La Düsseldorf,
Mars,
The Star Department,
Schoolly D,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Isaac Hayes,
D'Angelo,
The Standells,
Q and Not U,
Franke,
Cameo,
The Barracudas,
The Grass Roots,
New York Dolls,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
Anakelly,
Q65,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nik Kershaw,
Livin' Joy,
Dual Sessions,
Saccharine Trust,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Kinks,
Television,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Public Enemy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantaleimon,
Joe Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mad Mike,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Japan,
The Music Machine,
Sparks,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.