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 Angola and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Donald Fagen 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 Alarm Clocks to the disco 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Howard Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Darondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
June Days,
Symarip,
Tom Boy,
Nas,
Camouflage,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nils Olav,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
Jawbox,
The Invisible,
Colin Newman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Khruangbin,
Idris Muhammad,
Theoretical Girls,
Janne Schatter,
Newcleus,
These Immortal Souls,
Ten City,
CMW,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Archie Shepp,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brass Construction,
Pole,
Joensuu 1685,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
The J.B.'s,
Grauzone,
Kayak,
Radiopuhelimet,
Audionom,
Piero Umiliani,
Amon Düül II,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Evens,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.