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 Papua New Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Lou Reed 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the disco 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scratch Acid,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
Metal Thangz,
Jandek,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
Jawbox,
JFA,
Radio Birdman,
Monolake,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stetsasonic,
Zapp,
Aaron Thompson,
X-Ray Spex,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eden Ahbez,
Infiniti,
The Smiths,
Popol Vuh,
The Invisible,
The Kinks,
Lungfish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visage,
Dennis Brown,
Nirvana,
New Order,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Todd Terry,
The Names,
Marc Almond,
Los Fastidios,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
Stereo Dub,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
James White and The Blacks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-102,
The Saints,
The Fugs,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.