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 Sri Lanka and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the jazz 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Index,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sex Pistols,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed,
Deakin,
Graham Central Station,
Tubeway Army,
the Swans,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television Personalities,
Von Mondo,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Nils Olav,
Camberwell Now,
David Axelrod,
Niagra,
Lightning Bolt,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
Thompson Twins,
Bluetip,
Skriet,
Todd Terry,
Wally Richardson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Heaven 17,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Blake Baxter,
Reagan Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moody Blues,
Supertramp,
Q65,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
Easy Going,
Maurizio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Lungfish,
Ponytail,
The United States of America,
Average White Band,
Fela Kuti,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.