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 France and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roy Ayers to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
The Vogues,
The Offenders,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
Shoche,
The Invisible,
Spandau Ballet,
Dawn Penn,
Matthew Halsall,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soulsonic Force,
Magma,
Dark Day,
Aloha Tigers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radio Birdman,
Stetsasonic,
Mad Mike,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gories,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gladiators,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
The Evens,
Gang Green,
Archie Shepp,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang Starr,
Brothers Johnson,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
Maleditus Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Japan,
Jeff Lynne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blake Baxter,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.