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 Nigeria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the funk 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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Essential Logic,
Prince Buster,
Kaleidoscope,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker,
Soft Machine,
Simply Red,
The Toasters,
Ice-T,
Lyres,
Sandy B,
X-101,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy Collins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Junior Murvin,
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fugazi,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
The Misunderstood,
The Seeds,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
the Association,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
Joe Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Buzzcocks,
The Golliwogs,
Wasted Youth,
the Normal,
Monolake,
Zero Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Hasil Adkins,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
Skaos,
The Monochrome Set,
Lakeside,
Laurel Aitken,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.