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 Lebanon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Misunderstood to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Crime,
The Vogues,
The Martian,
Carl Craig,
Pierre Henry,
Alison Limerick,
The Happenings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Green,
Mars,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
EPMD,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronnie Foster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Andrew Hill,
Joensuu 1685,
Fluxion,
Pantytec,
Bush Tetras,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jawbox,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
Ohio Players,
Glenn Branca,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Quantec,
Bad Manners,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers,
Laurel Aitken,
Procol Harum,
The Doobie Brothers,
ABBA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David Axelrod,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Technova,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Rundgren,
Man Parrish,
David McCallum,
Motorama,
Davy DMX,
The Zeros,
Colin Newman,
Maleditus Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
New York Dolls,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.