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 Indonesia and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cowsills to the grime 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Q65,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Slave,
The Divine Comedy,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
The Tremeloes,
Wasted Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Quando Quango,
These Immortal Souls,
Dave Gahan,
Los Fastidios,
Eric B and Rakim,
The United States of America,
John Lydon,
David Bowie,
Barbara Tucker,
Saccharine Trust,
Livin' Joy,
ABC,
T. Rex,
Supertramp,
Eurythmics,
FM Einheit,
Ossler,
Ronnie Foster,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Offenders,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
Unrelated Segments,
A Certain Ratio,
Nirvana,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Technova,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Niagra,
Jerry's Kids,
Fad Gadget,
Jawbox,
Fugazi,
Lalo Schifrin,
One Last Wish,
Terry Callier,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring,
Black Flag,
The Seeds,
The Dead C,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.