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 Mauritius and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the punk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Traffic Nightmare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Susan Cadogan,
the Germs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Kinks,
Young Marble Giants,
Organ,
Black Sheep,
Eric B and Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Eurythmics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Skaos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echospace,
Sandy B,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Ituana,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Graham Central Station,
Alton Ellis,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Ronnie Foster,
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Almond,
The Associates,
The Red Krayola,
Frankie Knuckles,
Youth Brigade,
Terry Callier,
Byron Stingily,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.