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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Michael McDonald 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the jazz 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
The Toasters,
Deepchord,
Newcleus,
Roxy Music,
Roxette,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Sneak,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scratch Acid,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Birthday Party,
Qualms,
Alton Ellis,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donny Hathaway,
Make Up,
The Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Scrapy,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
The Standells,
Easy Going,
Delon & Dalcan,
Josef K,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smiths,
Unwound,
Radio Birdman,
Excepter,
Mars,
Wire,
Faust,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
Matthew Halsall,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
Funkadelic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Laurel Aitken,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.