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 Iran and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
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 snare 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
The Busters,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cal Tjader,
Moss Icon,
Brick,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
The Index,
The Blackbyrds,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Byron Stingily,
The Durutti Column,
In Retrospect,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eden Ahbez,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Hood,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Jeff Mills,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
AZ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Erasure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
The Smoke,
Lyres,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris Corsano,
Radio Birdman,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare,
Robert Görl,
The Fortunes,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
The Sonics,
The Move,
Fela Kuti,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.