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 Equatorial Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Man Parrish to the grunge 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Trumans Water,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Sparks,
Country Teasers,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Almond,
The American Breed,
The Victims,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bad Manners,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
Maurizio,
Deepchord,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
JFA,
Peter & Gordon,
Subhumans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Animal Collective,
Excepter,
Isaac Hayes,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Stetsasonic,
Boredoms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Little Man,
Joey Negro,
X-102,
The Blues Magoos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bauhaus,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Dennis Brown,
Gabor Szabo,
Main Source,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Prince Buster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.