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 Chile and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 Black Flag to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Clear Light,
Pierre Henry,
Ludus,
Mission of Burma,
Stiv Bators,
Spoonie Gee,
Al Stewart,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
Symarip,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dual Sessions,
Andrew Hill,
Marcia Griffiths,
H. Thieme,
EPMD,
Josef K,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
Panda Bear,
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
The Smoke,
The Barracudas,
Dennis Brown,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
The Wake,
Sarah Menescal,
Roxette,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronan,
Pere Ubu,
Fela Kuti,
The Mojo Men,
Motorama,
Lungfish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
June of 44,
Loose Ends,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Unrelated Segments,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.