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 Philippines and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Symarip,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Alton Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Carl Craig,
The Dirtbombs,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Scientists,
Lee Hazlewood,
Donald Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Subhumans,
Roxette,
Soulsonic Force,
Adolescents,
Suburban Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aaron Thompson,
The Happenings,
Pylon,
Japan,
The Trojans,
New Order,
Black Pus,
Niagra,
Derrick Morgan,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mojo Men,
Mission of Burma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wings,
Audionom,
Alphaville,
Robert Hood,
Kenny Larkin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eurythmics,
10cc,
Scott Walker,
The Litter,
Quando Quango,
Rod Modell,
The Martian,
Porter Ricks,
Bob Dylan,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.