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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 AZ to the techno 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Juan Atkins,
Eddi Front,
The Stooges,
Reagan Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
The Buckinghams,
Warren Ellis,
Fatback Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kenny Larkin,
The Searchers,
Public Enemy,
Funky Four + One,
Livin' Joy,
Amazonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hardrive,
Chris & Cosey,
Tres Demented,
Man Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Thee Headcoats,
Young Marble Giants,
The Offenders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Count Five,
Kaleidoscope,
Marine Girls,
One Last Wish,
John Lydon,
The Residents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T. Rex,
Alison Limerick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter & Gordon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
The Invisible,
Leonard Cohen,
Freddie Wadling,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantaleimon,
Unwound,
Spandau Ballet,
The New Christs,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.