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 South Sudan 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Dave Clark Five to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
David Bowie,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Stiv Bators,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Erasure,
Pole,
Maurizio,
Excepter,
Jawbox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
CMW,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arab on Radar,
Main Source,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MC5,
Intrusion,
The Fuzztones,
Supertramp,
Lyres,
La Düsseldorf,
Pere Ubu,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eve St. Jones,
Fugazi,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABBA,
Leonard Cohen,
Joe Smooth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Desert Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.