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 Africa and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Deepchord to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
Gabor Szabo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
Quando Quango,
Severed Heads,
Panda Bear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Soft Cell,
The Cure,
The Cowsills,
The Selecter,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Fluxion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Searchers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
Basic Channel,
Eric B and Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
Das Ding,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Essential Logic,
Supertramp,
Scientists,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf,
Pole,
The Kinks,
The Count Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heaven 17,
Bob Dylan,
Roger Hodgson,
Aural Exciters,
Wally Richardson,
Toni Rubio,
John Coltrane,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.