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 Jamaica and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Spoonie Gee to the rap 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Mission of Burma,
Ronan,
the Swans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deadbeat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zapp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Echospace,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
Barbara Tucker,
Alphaville,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Sarah Menescal,
The Stooges,
UT,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quantec,
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Moon,
Theoretical Girls,
Junior Murvin,
The Vogues,
Slave,
Franke,
The Selecter,
Pole,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cymande,
Lyres,
Sugar Minott,
Jacques Brel,
Pylon,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.