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 Jamaica and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fuzztones,
The Kinks,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Rakim,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Blossom Toes,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Monolake,
Index,
Black Moon,
Crime,
Can,
Pantytec,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Youth Brigade,
Nik Kershaw,
Khruangbin,
Chris Corsano,
Henry Cow,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare,
Eurythmics,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Vogues,
Gang Starr,
Mantronix,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pierre Henry,
The Barracudas,
Darondo,
Chris & Cosey,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
These Immortal Souls,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Stooges,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.