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 Bahamas and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the funk 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Lungfish,
Howard Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Associates,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Green,
Trumans Water,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Symarip,
Sight & Sound,
Au Pairs,
Fluxion,
Michelle Simonal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wolf Eyes,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lyres,
Soul II Soul,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Livin' Joy,
Yellowson,
Carl Craig,
Minor Threat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Max Romeo,
Sex Pistols,
Harmonia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Mo-Dettes,
Angry Samoans,
Skaos,
Swans,
Absolute Body Control,
Q65,
The Fugs,
the Sonics,
Faust,
Heaven 17,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Flag,
Eden Ahbez,
Main Source,
Brass Construction,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.