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 Belize and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy Collins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
The Doors,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Litter,
Zapp,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Malaria!,
Can,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
Symarip,
The Five Americans,
Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Flash Fearless,
The Beau Brummels,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
Franke,
Simply Red,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
Nils Olav,
Nik Kershaw,
Tubeway Army,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Almond,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spoonie Gee,
Little Man,
Quando Quango,
Wasted Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hoover,
Au Pairs,
Banda Bassotti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
Danielle Patucci,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Red Krayola,
The Fortunes,
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Das Ding,
Harmonia,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.