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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chris Corsano to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
DNA,
Chris Corsano,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blossom Toes,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alison Limerick,
ABBA,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Holt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skriet,
Avey Tare,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
The Grass Roots,
Slave,
The Angels of Light,
Tommy Roe,
Matthew Halsall,
Judy Mowatt,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Almond,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Mills,
The Vogues,
EPMD,
Donald Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Au Pairs,
Banda Bassotti,
The Residents,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra,
La Düsseldorf,
Main Source,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Ice-T,
Nik Kershaw,
The Searchers,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.