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 Nigeria and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar 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 MC5 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
Wire,
Supertramp,
Sister Nancy,
The Cramps,
Eurythmics,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Lungfish,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Associates,
Idris Muhammad,
The Flesh Eaters,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mummies,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers,
Procol Harum,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Fraelich,
Pere Ubu,
Deadbeat,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
The Black Dice,
Scrapy,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
Carl Craig,
Judy Mowatt,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Görl,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
Shoche,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
Hashim,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros,
Neil Young,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.