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 Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camouflage to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Blancmange,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
FM Einheit,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Con Funk Shun,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anthony Braxton,
the Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Oblivians,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
Dawn Penn,
Maleditus Sound,
Don Cherry,
Neu!,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II,
The Offenders,
Colin Newman,
Urselle,
Bronski Beat,
The Five Americans,
World's Most,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Clarke,
Nirvana,
Iggy Pop,
Pole,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bluetip,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sister Nancy,
Scrapy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
The Misunderstood,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.