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 Sierra Leone and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Average White Band to the grime 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Lydon,
Negative Approach,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacques Brel,
Jeff Lynne,
Janne Schatter,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Grey Daturas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Moebius,
The Happenings,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Lindisfarne,
Fad Gadget,
Tears for Fears,
Unwound,
E-Dancer,
The Litter,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Max Romeo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Womack,
Magazine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Circle Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Fluxion,
Quantec,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
Y Pants,
Lungfish,
Can,
Ponytail,
The Motions,
Kayak,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brass Construction,
Alphaville,
Bad Manners,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.