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 Lithuania and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
Sonic Youth,
Mars,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cal Tjader,
Cybotron,
cv313,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gong,
The Human League,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
The Mummies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The J.B.'s,
Nas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scott Walker,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
The Leaves,
Bad Manners,
Darondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Womack,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Interpol,
Subhumans,
The Zeros,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Unrelated Segments,
The Toasters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.