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 Nepal and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rock 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
Youth Brigade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Interpol,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lower 48,
Sugar Minott,
The Angels of Light,
Alton Ellis,
Ossler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joe Finger,
Stiv Bators,
Supertramp,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Panda Bear,
Sarah Menescal,
Crooked Eye,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
Tubeway Army,
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
Danielle Patucci,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Misunderstood,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
the Association,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Television,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
The Fuzztones,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rekid,
Man Parrish,
Sandy B,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.