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 Philippines and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
Gabor Szabo,
The Happenings,
Adolescents,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Altered Images,
Symarip,
Accadde A,
Pylon,
Icehouse,
Arthur Verocai,
The Grass Roots,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Livin' Joy,
Supertramp,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Index,
Rakim,
EPMD,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
Minor Threat,
the Association,
Reuben Wilson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ice-T,
Roxette,
Sun City Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Smog,
Pantytec,
Television,
Lyres,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Sex Pistols,
The Seeds,
B.T. Express,
Outsiders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Near,
The Searchers,
Delta 5,
The Misunderstood,
The Birthday Party,
Marvin Gaye,
The J.B.'s,
Arcadia,
Thee Headcoats,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.