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 Kiribati and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the grime 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
Toni Rubio,
Henry Cow,
Eric Dolphy,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
Moby Grape,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drexciya,
Sonic Youth,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
Mars,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
Jandek,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Inner City,
The Busters,
Funkadelic,
The Music Machine,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Lynne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
Iggy Pop,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
The Offenders,
Darondo,
the Soft Cell,
Liliput,
Amazonics,
Minutemen,
UT,
Au Pairs,
JFA,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Easy Going,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dead Boys,
Neu!,
Saccharine Trust,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Bourne,
World's Most,
Gabor Szabo,
Echospace,
Cameo,
Joyce Sims,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.