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 Kosovo and from New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tommy Roe,
Magazine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Michelle Simonal,
Can,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
Danielle Patucci,
Pantaleimon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boz Scaggs,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scratch Acid,
Boredoms,
Quadrant,
Niagra,
David McCallum,
The Techniques,
Peter & Gordon,
Donny Hathaway,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Style,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
Goldenarms,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Wasted Youth,
Section 25,
Flipper,
Pole,
Sam Rivers,
Pylon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nirvana,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Enemy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
Blancmange,
One Last Wish,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doors,
Black Pus,
Ponytail,
JFA,
the Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Barrington Levy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crooked Eye,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.