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 Turkey and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rap 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
The Monochrome Set,
The Invisible,
The Gladiators,
The Moleskins,
Organ,
Cluster,
Grauzone,
Ultra Naté,
The Dirtbombs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Interpol,
The Motions,
Trumans Water,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Barrington Levy,
Sonic Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crime,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dave Gahan,
Suicide,
The Star Department,
X-Ray Spex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
The Wake,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Faraquet,
Althea and Donna,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pulsallama,
Ossler,
The Black Dice,
The Walker Brothers,
Panda Bear,
Scrapy,
the Normal,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
The Slackers,
Vainqueur,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.