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 Sierra Leone and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Hashim to the crunk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Zero Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fall,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Germs,
Nick Fraelich,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Darondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radio Birdman,
The Slits,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
The Moody Blues,
Blossom Toes,
One Last Wish,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
Bauhaus,
Fat Boys,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
Average White Band,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Interpol,
Second Layer,
Cameo,
Pantytec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Organ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fad Gadget,
Hoover,
The Searchers,
The Modern Lovers,
Essential Logic,
Y Pants,
Model 500,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Sneak,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
Los Fastidios,
Thompson Twins,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Kas Product,
Symarip,
The Standells,
Ornette Coleman,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.