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 Gabon and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Panda Bear to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Hashim,
Quadrant,
The Shadows of Knight,
Procol Harum,
The Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nik Kershaw,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oneida,
the Germs,
This Heat,
The Blackbyrds,
Adolescents,
The Names,
Liliput,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
John Cale,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
Bill Near,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Foxx,
Nico,
Jeff Lynne,
The Tremeloes,
Scratch Acid,
X-Ray Spex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cure,
Surgeon,
Blancmange,
The Stooges,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Alphaville,
Siglo XX,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Copeland,
T. Rex,
The Smiths,
Harmonia,
Deakin,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.