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 Kuwait and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 Searchers to the crunk 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Funkadelic,
The Mojo Men,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Johnny Clarke,
Q65,
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
FM Einheit,
Brothers Johnson,
Scion,
Magazine,
Kenny Larkin,
cv313,
JFA,
Marvin Gaye,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
In Retrospect,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
Theoretical Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Starr,
Maleditus Sound,
John Holt,
Ultravox,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Star Department,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
The Monks,
Brick,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Joy Division,
Index,
Minutemen,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
The Misunderstood,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.