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 Slovakia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dawn Penn to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Womack,
Warsaw,
DNA,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Inner City,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Count Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-102,
Wings,
The Motions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
Sällskapet,
Main Source,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Wasted Youth,
Patti Smith,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Green,
Erasure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
the Soft Cell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crash Course in Science,
Funky Four + One,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
The Human League,
Nik Kershaw,
JFA,
Boredoms,
Max Romeo,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Wyatt,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bob Dylan,
Ohio Players,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Blancmange,
X-Ray Spex,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.