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 Armenia and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Stockholm Monsters to the techno 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Black Moon,
Sound Behaviour,
John Foxx,
Fat Boys,
Essential Logic,
The Raincoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gerry Rafferty,
Livin' Joy,
Barry Ungar,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-Ray Spex,
JFA,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
cv313,
China Crisis,
Angry Samoans,
Warsaw,
Buzzcocks,
48th St. Collective,
Stereo Dub,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
Warren Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sixth Finger,
The Mojo Men,
the Swans,
Cluster,
Half Japanese,
Organ,
Pantaleimon,
Talk Talk,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
Rotary Connection,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül,
Yellowson,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.