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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marmalade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Laurel Aitken,
the Association,
Oblivians,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Lynne,
Warsaw,
Barbara Tucker,
Susan Cadogan,
Hot Snakes,
Cal Tjader,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
KRS-One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camouflage,
the Germs,
Grauzone,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gories,
Dorothy Ashby,
In Retrospect,
Dave Gahan,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Raincoats,
Black Bananas,
Bill Near,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
MC5,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Royal Trux,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Cluster,
Sonny Sharrock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Max Romeo,
Panda Bear,
Marc Almond,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Seeds,
Swans,
Mantronix,
The Residents,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.