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 Samoa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
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 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Tremeloes to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Josef K,
Bobby Sherman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magazine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Wake,
Brand Nubian,
Reagan Youth,
Pantytec,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bad Manners,
The Birthday Party,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
Cal Tjader,
Camouflage,
Wings,
Joyce Sims,
Cheater Slicks,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Harmonia,
Panda Bear,
Black Pus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Lynne,
Simply Red,
AZ,
Roxette,
New York Dolls,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.