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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the punk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
Sparks,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
New Order,
the Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Amazonics,
Masters at Work,
Junior Murvin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Matthew Halsall,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
Gregory Isaacs,
Simply Red,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Patti Smith,
Darondo,
Chrome,
LL Cool J,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Steve Hackett,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Peter & Gordon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spoonie Gee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
Robert Wyatt,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
Alice Coltrane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kenny Larkin,
CMW,
B.T. Express,
Minnie Riperton,
EPMD,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.