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 Oman and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Lou Reed 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Idris Muhammad,
The Angels of Light,
Deadbeat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blake Baxter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reagan Youth,
In Retrospect,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Todd Terry,
Prince Buster,
Unwound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
Jerry's Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Scrapy,
Loose Ends,
Black Sheep,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlback,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Saints,
Warren Ellis,
Eurythmics,
Nils Olav,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
Joy Division,
K-Klass,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Charles Mingus,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
Scion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pagans,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.