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 Luxembourg and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Last Poets to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Vladislav Delay,
Bill Wells,
Wire,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monochrome Set,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cramps,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Zapp,
Monolake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radio Birdman,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
The Martian,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Green,
Animal Collective,
The Human League,
Chris & Cosey,
U.S. Maple,
The Skatalites,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
a-ha,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Pantaleimon,
The Fortunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Near,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blake Baxter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Judy Mowatt,
The Wake,
Easy Going,
Moebius,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
Clear Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Charles Mingus,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.