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 Latvia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Fad Gadget to the grunge 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
The Sonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Marine Girls,
H. Thieme,
The Martian,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hashim,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Shoche,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
Groovy Waters,
Aswad,
Subhumans,
Stereo Dub,
the Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Main Source,
The Kinks,
John Lydon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Offenders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
MDC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
The Moleskins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tres Demented,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fugs,
Harry Pussy,
Camouflage,
Rekid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Angels of Light,
Wasted Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Connie Case,
Sam Rivers,
The Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Faraquet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.