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 Pakistan and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soul II Soul to the crunk 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
Mars,
Hashim,
Oneida,
Glenn Branca,
Pussy Galore,
Pulsallama,
Tom Boy,
Wire,
The New Christs,
Reagan Youth,
Colin Newman,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Gang Green,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
The Evens,
Easy Going,
Eli Mardock,
The Dirtbombs,
New Order,
Soft Cell,
Flipper,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lalann,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale,
Section 25,
Oblivians,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smoke,
Howard Jones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
X-101,
Babytalk,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aural Exciters,
Harry Pussy,
China Crisis,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.