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 Pakistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Christie,
the Swans,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
The Moody Blues,
the Normal,
Inner City,
The Cowsills,
The Doors,
Rhythm & Sound,
Prince Buster,
K-Klass,
DJ Style,
Qualms,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
Sight & Sound,
The Invisible,
The Moleskins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Silicon Teens,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minnie Riperton,
Average White Band,
Das Ding,
Harpers Bizarre,
Severed Heads,
The Monks,
Rites of Spring,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oblivians,
Make Up,
The Golliwogs,
X-Ray Spex,
The Red Krayola,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric Dolphy,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Audionom,
Crime,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
Magma,
Reuben Wilson,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.