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 Liberia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ossler to the electroclash 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Hood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barrington Levy,
Roxy Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sällskapet,
The American Breed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ludus,
Vainqueur,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
The Evens,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kaleidoscope,
John Coltrane,
CMW,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
X-Ray Spex,
The Red Krayola,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
World's Most,
Rotary Connection,
Erasure,
Deadbeat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Supertramp,
The Victims,
The Real Kids,
The Cowsills,
Hashim,
Zero Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiohead,
Janne Schatter,
Ituana,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
T.S.O.L.,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
Dark Day,
Vladislav Delay,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cramps,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ohio Players,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
Roy Ayers,
JFA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.