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 Indonesia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Michael McDonald 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 Marvin Gaye to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
48th St. Collective,
New York Dolls,
Sugar Minott,
Deepchord,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
Echospace,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Smooth,
Crooked Eye,
Second Layer,
Brick,
Swans,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unwound,
Desert Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
Eric Copeland,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Rotary Connection,
Minutemen,
The Remains,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ponytail,
Young Marble Giants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
The Searchers,
Bill Near,
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Bob Dylan,
Groovy Waters,
Rapeman,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
Radiohead,
Robert Görl,
The Monks,
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
The Zeros,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
E-Dancer,
ABC,
Skriet,
New Order,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.