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 United Kingdom and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harmonia,
Peter and Kerry,
Unrelated Segments,
The Vogues,
The Divine Comedy,
EPMD,
KRS-One,
Hashim,
Aswad,
Model 500,
Radio Birdman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül,
The Dirtbombs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scrapy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
Tim Buckley,
The Remains,
Jacob Miller,
The Neon Judgement,
Mad Mike,
Lakeside,
Nico,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
X-101,
Boredoms,
The Sonics,
Aloha Tigers,
Graham Central Station,
Pagans,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
Au Pairs,
Infiniti,
Maleditus Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Womack,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.