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 South Sudan and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Brothers Johnson,
Hashim,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
The Moleskins,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Max Romeo,
Nico,
Tom Boy,
The Moody Blues,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Cluster,
Motorama,
The Standells,
The Wake,
Q and Not U,
Wasted Youth,
Clear Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Near,
Colin Newman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers,
the Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
Make Up,
Nirvana,
Model 500,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Don Cherry,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
World's Most,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Howard Jones,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.