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 Belarus and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Althea and Donna to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Buzzcocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
The Offenders,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gong,
Simply Red,
The Skatalites,
MC5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Accadde A,
Sandy B,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gories,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grauzone,
The Buckinghams,
Peter & Gordon,
China Crisis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pussy Galore,
Index,
Don Cherry,
Rufus Thomas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
Jacob Miller,
Circle Jerks,
Quando Quango,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang of Four,
The Evens,
Basic Channel,
the Germs,
New Order,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Marc Almond,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.