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 Netherlands and from London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Con Funk Shun 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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Black Pus,
Pantaleimon,
Andrew Hill,
Sugar Minott,
The Alarm Clocks,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
Sight & Sound,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
Crooked Eye,
Neu!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Model 500,
Gong,
Chris & Cosey,
Hot Snakes,
The Pop Group,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swans,
Section 25,
Bobby Sherman,
Patti Smith,
Rod Modell,
Joe Finger,
Ossler,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Machine,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
the Germs,
Davy DMX,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
Depeche Mode,
Animal Collective,
Shuggie Otis,
Shoche,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Massinfluence,
Marc Almond,
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
In Retrospect,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
Delta 5,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.