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 Malta and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare 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 Doors to the funk 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Ludus,
Nirvana,
Radiohead,
Mo-Dettes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Remains,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
Josef K,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
Guru Guru,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Davy DMX,
The Gap Band,
Sugar Minott,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne,
Newcleus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oneida,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Blossom Toes,
Mr. Review,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funkadelic,
The Smoke,
the Human League,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Eden Ahbez,
Moby Grape,
Television Personalities,
The Monochrome Set,
The Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
Second Layer,
Theoretical Girls,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
Tom Boy,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.