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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Misunderstood to the grunge 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Joe Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
John Foxx,
Dead Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
Lalann,
The Names,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fad Gadget,
Scrapy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barrington Levy,
AZ,
Connie Case,
Sight & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
Tim Buckley,
The Slackers,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Y Pants,
Tears for Fears,
Joey Negro,
The Leaves,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Litter,
Tres Demented,
Reagan Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rufus Thomas,
Blancmange,
Quadrant,
Saccharine Trust,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
The Skatalites,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.