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 Pakistan and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 mellotron 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 Chris Corsano to the funk 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun Ra,
Black Pus,
Yusef Lateef,
Joy Division,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Animal Collective,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
The Offenders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hasil Adkins,
the Normal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
Amon Düül II,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soul II Soul,
Main Source,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
Technova,
Icehouse,
Minutemen,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Flipper,
Whodini,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Make Up,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
The Smiths,
Minor Threat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dave Gahan,
The Busters,
Moebius,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gastr Del Sol,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Warren Ellis,
Underground Resistance,
Howard Jones,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.