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 Delhi.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Basic Channel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Black Bananas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Cale,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Procol Harum,
Interpol,
Lakeside,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds,
L. Decosne,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Style,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Half Japanese,
New Order,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Association,
Rod Modell,
New York Dolls,
Chris & Cosey,
Harmonia,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
The Golliwogs,
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
Skaos,
James White and The Blacks,
Chris Corsano,
Groovy Waters,
Slick Rick,
ABBA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Derrick May,
Minor Threat,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Dead Boys,
Quantec,
The Vogues,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Moon,
Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Nils Olav,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.