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 El Salvador and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 Wire to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Joyce Sims,
Black Sheep,
Von Mondo,
Magma,
The Neon Judgement,
Khruangbin,
Albert Ayler,
These Immortal Souls,
Marmalade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flash Fearless,
Sister Nancy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
The Happenings,
Nick Fraelich,
Delta 5,
La Düsseldorf,
Marvin Gaye,
Thompson Twins,
MC5,
Public Enemy,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Marine Girls,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
Liliput,
Lou Reed,
Ponytail,
Tropical Tobacco,
Saccharine Trust,
Rapeman,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
The Zeros,
World's Most,
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Bourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amon Düül II,
Metal Thangz,
Arab on Radar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zero Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Popol Vuh,
Deakin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.