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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 Royal Trux to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott Heron,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
Steve Hackett,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deadbeat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Black Flag,
Youth Brigade,
Ludus,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Style,
The Offenders,
Connie Case,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fortunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Young Rascals,
John Lydon,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
H. Thieme,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
Popol Vuh,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television Personalities,
Marmalade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Susan Cadogan,
The Vogues,
Neu!,
June Days,
Scrapy,
Desert Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
UT,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Malaria!,
Pole,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.