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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
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 synthesizer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Davy DMX,
Marmalade,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
Adolescents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boz Scaggs,
Pulsallama,
Ken Boothe,
Flash Fearless,
The Gladiators,
Reagan Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Babytalk,
The Pretty Things,
8 Eyed Spy,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Görl,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Outsiders,
Subhumans,
Guru Guru,
Crooked Eye,
Mad Mike,
The Raincoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Mission of Burma,
Chrome,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Hood,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
UT,
Wally Richardson,
Groovy Waters,
The Happenings,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
The Star Department,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.