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 Mozambique 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '80s.
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 The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ornette Coleman,
Adolescents,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nils Olav,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Godley & Creme,
Sound Behaviour,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
June Days,
a-ha,
This Heat,
Deadbeat,
DJ Style,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantytec,
B.T. Express,
Dead Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Stiv Bators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
Sex Pistols,
Aswad,
The Human League,
Bang On A Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Schoolly D,
The Stooges,
Alison Limerick,
Brick,
Chrome,
Radiohead,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
Flamin' Groovies,
Morten Harket,
AZ,
Von Mondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
X-Ray Spex,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slits,
CMW,
PIL,
Andrew Hill,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.