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 Germany and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 MDC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Suicide,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Rites of Spring,
Neil Young,
Little Man,
World's Most,
Drexciya,
The Selecter,
Mark Hollis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Monolake,
Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thompson Twins,
The Smoke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
Babytalk,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nico,
Rapeman,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
48th St. Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
F. McDonald,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Bananas,
The Skatalites,
Theoretical Girls,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
The Mummies,
Pussy Galore,
Can,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Wire,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Franke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Bush Tetras,
David McCallum,
kango's stein massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Janne Schatter,
Icehouse,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.