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 Sudan and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Khruangbin,
La Düsseldorf,
Erykah Badu,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
The Standells,
The Skatalites,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
10cc,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantytec,
the Soft Cell,
Yellowson,
Make Up,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fuzztones,
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
Mad Mike,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Index,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Chris & Cosey,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ituana,
Black Sheep,
Sonny Sharrock,
EPMD,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
FM Einheit,
Mo-Dettes,
Michelle Simonal,
Zapp,
Nik Kershaw,
Skaos,
Visage,
Graham Central Station,
Laurel Aitken,
X-101,
the Human League,
Aswad,
Deepchord,
The Residents,
Index,
Henry Cow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Remains,
Bobby Byrd,
Parry Music,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.