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 Nigeria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
EPMD,
Jacob Miller,
Model 500,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Donald Byrd,
Roxy Music,
Bush Tetras,
Hashim,
Country Teasers,
Charles Mingus,
Joe Finger,
Skarface,
Heaven 17,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
Cameo,
The Gories,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The American Breed,
Magma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anakelly,
Isaac Hayes,
The Raincoats,
Das Ding,
Reuben Wilson,
Reagan Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fugazi,
Aural Exciters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
Crash Course in Science,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
Lyres,
Fluxion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
Sun Ra,
Saccharine Trust,
Suburban Knight,
PIL,
Joey Negro,
Franke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Lynne,
Sparks,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.