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 Lithuania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
June Days,
The Music Machine,
Cameo,
Moebius,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kas Product,
Ultra Naté,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pere Ubu,
X-101,
Franke,
Black Moon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joe Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Junior Murvin,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantaleimon,
Hashim,
Agitation Free,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
This Heat,
The Stooges,
Boogie Down Productions,
Khruangbin,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crooked Eye,
Mark Hollis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joensuu 1685,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris & Cosey,
Lakeside,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.