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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 the Normal to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
10cc,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Techniques,
Faraquet,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lightning Bolt,
Lucky Dragons,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joy Division,
Ossler,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Joe Finger,
The United States of America,
48th St. Collective,
Outsiders,
Jerry's Kids,
Talk Talk,
Quando Quango,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Knickerbockers,
David McCallum,
The Music Machine,
Khruangbin,
Masters at Work,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gun Club,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
Dave Gahan,
The Gladiators,
the Normal,
Flipper,
The Leaves,
Pylon,
The Tremeloes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Los Fastidios,
Public Image Ltd.,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
ABBA,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Sister Nancy,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.