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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Pere Ubu to the disco 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers,
Ten City,
The Doors,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
UT,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Cymande,
Aaron Thompson,
Henry Cow,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deadbeat,
Arthur Verocai,
Sparks,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Maurizio,
Magazine,
The Sound,
Newcleus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eden Ahbez,
cv313,
the Human League,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ponytail,
Terry Callier,
Theoretical Girls,
Quantec,
Avey Tare,
Josef K,
The J.B.'s,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Donny Hathaway,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bad Manners,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronan,
Mars,
Bush Tetras,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Axelrod,
Wire,
Tears for Fears,
Swell Maps,
ABC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scrapy,
the Slits,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.