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 Ghana and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Holger Czukay 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 Barracudas to the grunge 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Busters,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vainqueur,
OOIOO,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Osbourne,
Newcleus,
FM Einheit,
Basic Channel,
The Mojo Men,
Black Flag,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Young Marble Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Shuggie Otis,
cv313,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Supertramp,
The Real Kids,
Black Bananas,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fire Engines,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Sherman,
Quadrant,
Scott Walker,
Howard Jones,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Schoolly D,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Monochrome Set,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Holt,
Accadde A,
Scan 7,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.