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 Afghanistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 X-102 to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
Simply Red,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
OOIOO,
Aswad,
Pharoah Sanders,
Icehouse,
Davy DMX,
The Trojans,
New York Dolls,
The Happenings,
The Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Piero Umiliani,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Can,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
Los Fastidios,
The Birthday Party,
Pole,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Normal,
Terry Callier,
Danielle Patucci,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fugazi,
Sun City Girls,
Pylon,
Archie Shepp,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
The Residents,
Leonard Cohen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mary Jane Girls,
T. Rex,
Royal Trux,
Cymande,
The Names,
D'Angelo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
Connie Case,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.