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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Tom Boy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fad Gadget,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dark Day,
The Searchers,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
Saccharine Trust,
Bad Manners,
Magazine,
Gong,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Scion,
Erykah Badu,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
Franke,
Soul II Soul,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
Eve St. Jones,
Sight & Sound,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Kinks,
John Foxx,
Nirvana,
Scott Walker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
Minny Pops,
10cc,
Gregory Isaacs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rosa Yemen,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Sällskapet,
Tres Demented,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.