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 Qatar and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rock 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Wings,
The Neon Judgement,
Nils Olav,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
R.M.O.,
Zero Boys,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Blancmange,
Kerri Chandler,
Royal Trux,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
Porter Ricks,
cv313,
Accadde A,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eden Ahbez,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Technova,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Durutti Column,
the Slits,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Albert Ayler,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Make Up,
Dennis Brown,
The Motions,
Zapp,
Das Ding,
Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacques Brel,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Siglo XX,
JFA,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.