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 Guinea and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Durutti Column to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
David McCallum,
Panda Bear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eden Ahbez,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Shuggie Otis,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Tears for Fears,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lebanon Hanover,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
David Bowie,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Interpol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Techniques,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Standells,
David Axelrod,
The Zeros,
Spandau Ballet,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
Wings,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
MDC,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
The J.B.'s,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
the Human League,
Graham Central Station,
The Residents,
PIL,
Kool Moe Dee,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ten City,
Steve Hackett,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.