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 Bhutan and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Interpol to the jazz 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Loose Ends,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cluster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Easy Going,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mummies,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Chris & Cosey,
Hashim,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
Idris Muhammad,
The Flesh Eaters,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Max Romeo,
The Durutti Column,
10cc,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Jacob Miller,
Cameo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Aloha Tigers,
The Vogues,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Sneak,
Chris Corsano,
Sällskapet,
X-101,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Kayak,
Black Flag,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Audionom,
Television,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blackbyrds,
The Misunderstood,
Nick Fraelich,
Duran Duran,
Buzzcocks,
The Golliwogs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.