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 Slovenia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Tears for Fears to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon,
The Last Poets,
Negative Approach,
Barbara Tucker,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter and Kerry,
Albert Ayler,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
the Association,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aloha Tigers,
Little Man,
Lebanon Hanover,
Archie Shepp,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
Skaos,
X-102,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon,
Vainqueur,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf,
Technova,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
Ludus,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Visage,
Wally Richardson,
EPMD,
The Motions,
The Skatalites,
The Doobie Brothers,
Qualms,
Hasil Adkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-Ray Spex,
Niagra,
Lindisfarne,
Cluster,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
Schoolly D,
Nas,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.