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 Liberia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Half Japanese 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Depeche Mode,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
Eric Copeland,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
The Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Lindisfarne,
Alphaville,
Joyce Sims,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
Skaos,
Altered Images,
Boredoms,
Q and Not U,
Rod Modell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q65,
Surgeon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cameo,
Sparks,
Marc Almond,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
Model 500,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Index,
Terry Callier,
Schoolly D,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barrington Levy,
The Cure,
Goldenarms,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Invisible,
Grey Daturas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
The Kinks,
Jandek,
Joey Negro,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
Qualms,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.