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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Velvet Underground to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Barracudas,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
Model 500,
Reagan Youth,
Gong,
John Lydon,
China Crisis,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Don Cherry,
Neu!,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Soul Sonic Force,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
B.T. Express,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
Mars,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
JFA,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick Morgan,
Schoolly D,
Mission of Burma,
Interpol,
Camouflage,
Quando Quango,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Albert Ayler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Darondo,
Scientists,
Massinfluence,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Average White Band,
Black Flag,
The Smoke,
Procol Harum,
Qualms,
Joey Negro,
Loose Ends,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
R.M.O.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.