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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lyres to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Das Ding,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Laurel Aitken,
Sparks,
Clear Light,
The Standells,
PIL,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Monks,
Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ornette Coleman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Index,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
Kenny Larkin,
The Stooges,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
Brick,
Minnie Riperton,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Mantronix,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
Crime,
Anakelly,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Normal,
Aloha Tigers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Offenders,
Grauzone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.