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 Angola and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Real Kids,
The Remains,
New Order,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skaos,
Babytalk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arcadia,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Cybotron,
Trumans Water,
The Star Department,
Boz Scaggs,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Ten City,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Black Sheep,
Whodini,
John Coltrane,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
Ornette Coleman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Christie,
Mars,
Howard Jones,
R.M.O.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Fear,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mad Mike,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
Kas Product,
The Happenings,
Essential Logic,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
KRS-One,
Angry Samoans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harmonia,
The Pop Group,
Ronan,
L. Decosne,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.