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 Singapore and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Michael McDonald 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Music Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pulsallama,
Man Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Ronan,
Buzzcocks,
Zapp,
Amon Düül,
Amazonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Rod Modell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
Terry Callier,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Wyatt,
Whodini,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Flash Fearless,
Kayak,
Kas Product,
Stockholm Monsters,
Visage,
Leonard Cohen,
Boredoms,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
The American Breed,
The Raincoats,
Ponytail,
10cc,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Clarke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Laurel Aitken,
Von Mondo,
Los Fastidios,
Ken Boothe,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pierre Henry,
Half Japanese,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dual Sessions,
The Smoke,
The Beau Brummels,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.