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 Somalia and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grime 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Depeche Mode,
Lee Hazlewood,
UT,
Bluetip,
Rosa Yemen,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deakin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Raincoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun City Girls,
Neil Young,
Little Man,
Delta 5,
Sex Pistols,
The Martian,
Buzzcocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
Chris Corsano,
The Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yazoo,
Mantronix,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
New York Dolls,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
cv313,
Nas,
Niagra,
Lakeside,
The Human League,
These Immortal Souls,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Henry Cow,
Japan,
Bob Dylan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
The Slits,
Wire,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fall,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.