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 Dominica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Sandy B,
The Saints,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Christie,
Essential Logic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tommy Roe,
Todd Rundgren,
Audionom,
Joy Division,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Faraquet,
New Order,
Darondo,
Ludus,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
The Leaves,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Litter,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Bar-Kays,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Anthony Braxton,
Deepchord,
Byron Stingily,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
Q and Not U,
Janne Schatter,
the Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rites of Spring,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Derrick May,
The Pretty Things,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.