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 Dominica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flesh Eaters to the funk 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Moon,
Swell Maps,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
DJ Style,
Urselle,
The Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Arab on Radar,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Rakim,
The Standells,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
MC5,
Nas,
Moss Icon,
10cc,
Smog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
The Cowsills,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DNA,
New York Dolls,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Robert Hood,
Alton Ellis,
Depeche Mode,
Heaven 17,
The Smoke,
The J.B.'s,
48th St. Collective,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Copeland,
Motorama,
Banda Bassotti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Residents,
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
the Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.