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 India and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Prince Buster to the jazz 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Arab on Radar,
The Vogues,
Radio Birdman,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dual Sessions,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
FM Einheit,
Accadde A,
Bluetip,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Sneak,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Desert Stars,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Unrelated Segments,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Fugazi,
kango's stein massive,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Q and Not U,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
The Leaves,
Cameo,
Roxette,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Residents,
Al Stewart,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
The Move,
Qualms,
Harmonia,
Country Teasers,
Kerri Chandler,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Görl,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Banda Bassotti,
The Young Rascals,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David Axelrod,
Albert Ayler,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.