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 Cyprus and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Names to the funk 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
The Fall,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Monks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roxette,
Derrick Morgan,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Vladislav Delay,
Bang On A Can,
David McCallum,
Colin Newman,
Mars,
Fatback Band,
The Black Dice,
Livin' Joy,
Television,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Association,
The Smiths,
Y Pants,
New York Dolls,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Guru Guru,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
Rapeman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Görl,
Lungfish,
Ultra Naté,
Josef K,
The Saints,
Jeff Mills,
Quando Quango,
Talk Talk,
The Shadows of Knight,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead,
Glambeats Corp.,
Negative Approach,
Wolf Eyes,
Simply Red,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.