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 Tuvalu and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the disco 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Zapp,
Thompson Twins,
Tom Boy,
The Associates,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
Ultravox,
Minutemen,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Eurythmics,
James White and The Blacks,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Junior Murvin,
D'Angelo,
Skriet,
Guru Guru,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
Oneida,
Arcadia,
Curtis Mayfield,
Q65,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fall,
Accadde A,
The Skatalites,
Lower 48,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minnie Riperton,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül,
In Retrospect,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.