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 Cambodia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 The New Christs to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Lucky Dragons,
Outsiders,
Radio Birdman,
The Vogues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
B.T. Express,
Soulsonic Force,
Flash Fearless,
The Raincoats,
Gong,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flipper,
Mo-Dettes,
Colin Newman,
Charles Mingus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
In Retrospect,
Cheater Slicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marine Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Todd Rundgren,
Pagans,
The Five Americans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
The Smiths,
Mad Mike,
Eden Ahbez,
Barrington Levy,
Tears for Fears,
Kerri Chandler,
Dave Gahan,
Soul II Soul,
The United States of America,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masters at Work,
Ituana,
Oneida,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Stetsasonic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Schoolly D,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.