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 Gambia and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Walker Brothers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Hoover,
Terry Callier,
The United States of America,
The Kinks,
Kayak,
Junior Murvin,
Half Japanese,
The Raincoats,
The Smiths,
Franke,
Brand Nubian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lebanon Hanover,
Leonard Cohen,
Fear,
Section 25,
The Tremeloes,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
Deadbeat,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
The Toasters,
The Divine Comedy,
The Standells,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Symarip,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Wake,
World's Most,
Andrew Hill,
Minny Pops,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Mars,
Joey Negro,
Flamin' Groovies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anakelly,
Tubeway Army,
Dark Day,
Stetsasonic,
Joy Division,
Ronan,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.