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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Music Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Swell Maps,
Maleditus Sound,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
cv313,
Brick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Severed Heads,
Glenn Branca,
Depeche Mode,
The Smoke,
48th St. Collective,
PIL,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Buckinghams,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Fluxion,
Zero Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Amazonics,
The Names,
UT,
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick May,
Sex Pistols,
Camouflage,
Ohio Players,
Sound Behaviour,
Moss Icon,
Junior Murvin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiohead,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.