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 Tonga and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
Minnie Riperton,
The Saints,
Oblivians,
Moss Icon,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
Babytalk,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Suburban Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Qualms,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Techniques,
Lalann,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monks,
The Zeros,
Rod Modell,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
Ponytail,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Blossom Toes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joey Negro,
Tres Demented,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sparks,
Crash Course in Science,
Symarip,
Dual Sessions,
Television Personalities,
ABBA,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young,
Anakelly,
Zapp,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Tom Boy,
OOIOO,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.