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 Netherlands and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hot Snakes,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
Index,
the Association,
Tim Buckley,
Pylon,
The Angels of Light,
Jacques Brel,
Lakeside,
Henry Cow,
The Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Skaos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monks,
Fatback Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
The Mummies,
The Invisible,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
The Young Rascals,
Rapeman,
Lou Reed,
The Barracudas,
CMW,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Style,
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hasil Adkins,
Skriet,
Aural Exciters,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Man Parrish,
UT,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.