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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Martian to the electroclash 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rotary Connection,
Tommy Roe,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maurizio,
Camberwell Now,
Boredoms,
The Young Rascals,
Arthur Verocai,
Sam Rivers,
The Blues Magoos,
Harmonia,
The Neon Judgement,
Reuben Wilson,
Scan 7,
Shoche,
Funkadelic,
The Selecter,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marvin Gaye,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
Index,
Rapeman,
Little Man,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minnie Riperton,
Fluxion,
Nils Olav,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.