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 Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
kango's stein massive,
Jawbox,
Hoover,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Aloha Tigers,
Ohio Players,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Moon,
The Music Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dead C,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ronnie Foster,
Boredoms,
Half Japanese,
Brass Construction,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Mad Mike,
Banda Bassotti,
Yellowson,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Archie Shepp,
Swell Maps,
Soft Cell,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Offenders,
Gong,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
The J.B.'s,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Almond,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.