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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hot Snakes to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barrington Levy,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Green,
Brand Nubian,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
Organ,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
Bill Near,
Kevin Saunderson,
Michelle Simonal,
Max Romeo,
Moebius,
Ice-T,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Aloha Tigers,
Bootsy Collins,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Grauzone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Litter,
Sparks,
Skaos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Icehouse,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wings,
Boredoms,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Grey Daturas,
the Germs,
The Searchers,
Jawbox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
Schoolly D,
Darondo,
Massinfluence,
The Shadows of Knight,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
Silicon Teens,
Eden Ahbez,
Mantronix,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camberwell Now,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Urselle,
PIL,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.