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 Korea North and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Black Bananas to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Underground Resistance,
The Misunderstood,
The Barracudas,
David Bowie,
Rod Modell,
Susan Cadogan,
FM Einheit,
R.M.O.,
Cal Tjader,
the Normal,
the Fania All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Max Romeo,
John Foxx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rhythm & Sound,
Intrusion,
Eric Copeland,
KRS-One,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
Tim Buckley,
Brand Nubian,
The Modern Lovers,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Jawbox,
Shoche,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Scientists,
Symarip,
Barry Ungar,
Mandrill,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
The Fall,
Neil Young,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
cv313,
Crooked Eye,
The New Christs,
Fat Boys,
ABC,
JFA,
Black Flag,
Saccharine Trust,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.