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 Colombia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rock 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
The Beau Brummels,
H. Thieme,
The Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
Blancmange,
Erasure,
This Heat,
Main Source,
Yazoo,
Swans,
Sugar Minott,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minor Threat,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
The Searchers,
Cluster,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anthony Braxton,
Reuben Wilson,
Thee Headcoats,
DJ Style,
Kurtis Blow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pole,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Youth Brigade,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
Don Cherry,
Pantytec,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
a-ha,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rakim,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Kerri Chandler,
Marine Girls,
Bill Near,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.