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 Nauru and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 T. Rex to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Country Teasers,
Alton Ellis,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Ralphi Rosario,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minutemen,
Schoolly D,
Camouflage,
Visage,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
LL Cool J,
Pole,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Halsall,
Charles Mingus,
Eddi Front,
DJ Sneak,
Blossom Toes,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Terry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris & Cosey,
The Wake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sound,
Newcleus,
Rekid,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Procol Harum,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.