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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Zapp,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Inner City,
The Selecter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Swans,
Roxy Music,
Byron Stingily,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Organ,
Grey Daturas,
Al Stewart,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Basic Channel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oneida,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Skarface,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hoover,
The Litter,
Youth Brigade,
Glenn Branca,
The Searchers,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Television,
Mark Hollis,
cv313,
The Divine Comedy,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Robert Hood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
Easy Going,
the Germs,
The Raincoats,
Pole,
Piero Umiliani,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nils Olav,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.