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 Niger and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Rufus Thomas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Ornette Coleman,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bronski Beat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Hill,
CMW,
Yusef Lateef,
Amazonics,
The Fire Engines,
X-102,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dawn Penn,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerri Chandler,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Happenings,
Delta 5,
Ludus,
These Immortal Souls,
Prince Buster,
Guru Guru,
Mo-Dettes,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
Sugar Minott,
Intrusion,
Radiohead,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
Sun City Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fela Kuti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick Morgan,
Brand Nubian,
Youth Brigade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hardrive,
Chris Corsano,
Stetsasonic,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
The Searchers,
MDC,
Silicon Teens,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.