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 Poland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 New York Dolls to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Y Pants,
The J.B.'s,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
Ituana,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Womack,
Black Bananas,
New York Dolls,
FM Einheit,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eve St. Jones,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
Lou Christie,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
Dead Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Roxette,
Supertramp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Icehouse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sällskapet,
Lindisfarne,
Clear Light,
L. Decosne,
Blancmange,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ten City,
Newcleus,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
Peter & Gordon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
Television Personalities,
cv313,
The Human League,
10cc,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Man Parrish,
John Holt,
The Seeds,
The Move,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.