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 Montenegro and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 Parry Music to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
The Moleskins,
Urselle,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Golliwogs,
The Happenings,
Peter and Kerry,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Real Kids,
Tom Boy,
Patti Smith,
Delta 5,
Joensuu 1685,
The Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
Scott Walker,
Skaos,
Technova,
Flipper,
Banda Bassotti,
The Residents,
Archie Shepp,
The New Christs,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Niagra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brick,
AZ,
John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blues Magoos,
Dual Sessions,
Radio Birdman,
Grauzone,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
The Monochrome Set,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.