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 Mauritius and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cure to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
The Skatalites,
Bauhaus,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
Iggy Pop,
Groovy Waters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
Goldenarms,
F. McDonald,
Unrelated Segments,
Ken Boothe,
Bill Wells,
Lou Christie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angry Samoans,
The Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Mad Mike,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dawn Penn,
MC5,
PIL,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wire,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Harmonia,
The Names,
Cluster,
The Durutti Column,
Stetsasonic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
Bad Manners,
Slave,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.