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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Durutti Column,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Liliput,
Gil Scott Heron,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
Nico,
Skarface,
Outsiders,
Ultra Naté,
Ice-T,
X-102,
Faraquet,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bronski Beat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Harmonia,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
Shuggie Otis,
The Star Department,
Scan 7,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Smooth,
the Association,
Bluetip,
Bootsy Collins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cymande,
Ken Boothe,
Marshall Jefferson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Newcleus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.