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 Rwanda and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Make Up,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
One Last Wish,
Dawn Penn,
Yazoo,
Sex Pistols,
Thee Headcoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Schoolly D,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerri Chandler,
Al Stewart,
Eve St. Jones,
Howard Jones,
Prince Buster,
Lyres,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moss Icon,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slave,
Todd Terry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Excepter,
The Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mr. Review,
Jawbox,
Scientists,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
kango's stein massive,
Lalann,
John Foxx,
The Gladiators,
The Grass Roots,
Bluetip,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
Skaos,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Underground Resistance,
Minor Threat,
The Busters,
Barbara Tucker,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.