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 Spain and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 kango's stein massive 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Laurel Aitken,
Pierre Henry,
Bad Manners,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sandy B,
Kayak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
The Young Rascals,
The Stooges,
Dark Day,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Crash Course in Science,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jandek,
Sight & Sound,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Gabor Szabo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Unwound,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Human League,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
New Order,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
Pantytec,
Anakelly,
Simply Red,
Connie Case,
Masters at Work,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.