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 Tonga and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Faraquet to the crunk 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Interpol,
The Young Rascals,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
Wings,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Niagra,
The Cowsills,
the Sonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dark Day,
Jesper Dahlback,
PIL,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
Colin Newman,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Style,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scratch Acid,
Carl Craig,
The Fortunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alphaville,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slave,
Joe Smooth,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Tim Buckley,
Reuben Wilson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
This Heat,
Mad Mike,
The Index,
Tears for Fears,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bad Manners,
Grandmaster Flash,
Juan Atkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
Stetsasonic,
Country Teasers,
Wire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.