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 Brunei and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin 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 Section 25 to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller 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 Pretty Things,
The Tremeloes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grauzone,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Sam Rivers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gichy Dan,
John Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
Hot Snakes,
Brick,
Fela Kuti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Vogues,
Idris Muhammad,
DNA,
The Neon Judgement,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
The Walker Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Subhumans,
Japan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Whodini,
Matthew Bourne,
Wings,
Thee Headcoats,
Motorama,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brothers Johnson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
Gregory Isaacs,
Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
The Last Poets,
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.