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 Angola and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Mars,
Visage,
The Searchers,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
the Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Inner City,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
The Selecter,
The Gap Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moebius,
the Normal,
Scrapy,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deepchord,
Thompson Twins,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tim Buckley,
The Neon Judgement,
June Days,
Piero Umiliani,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Cale,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Kevin Saunderson,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics,
Sun City Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
The Litter,
Bauhaus,
Nas,
Marmalade,
David Axelrod,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sam Rivers,
Arcadia,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.