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 Andorra and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Johnny Clarke 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Desert Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlback,
Junior Murvin,
T.S.O.L.,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ludus,
Q and Not U,
the Slits,
OOIOO,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
Kool Moe Dee,
Royal Trux,
Moebius,
The Searchers,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
Joey Negro,
Eddi Front,
The Fugs,
Black Bananas,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
DNA,
Pierre Henry,
Dark Day,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Freddie Wadling,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
Amon Düül,
Inner City,
The Moody Blues,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.