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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radio Birdman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soft Cell,
June of 44,
EPMD,
Joe Smooth,
Moebius,
Connie Case,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Pretty Things,
Wire,
Spandau Ballet,
The Birthday Party,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Marmalade,
Eddi Front,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Cal Tjader,
Index,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Boredoms,
The Skatalites,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Near,
ABBA,
Section 25,
Lalo Schifrin,
Radio Birdman,
Sugar Minott,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
The Smiths,
Eurythmics,
Hoover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Josef K,
Hashim,
Lakeside,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
B.T. Express,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.