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 Nicaragua and from London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Agitation Free,
Vladislav Delay,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Bob Dylan,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
E-Dancer,
Boz Scaggs,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Zeros,
Albert Ayler,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
Laurel Aitken,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Boredoms,
Anakelly,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxette,
Ice-T,
The Martian,
The Fall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Searchers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Inner City,
A Certain Ratio,
Supertramp,
Banda Bassotti,
Dark Day,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
John Coltrane,
Peter & Gordon,
Kenny Larkin,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Wire,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Negative Approach,
UT,
Malaria!,
48th St. Collective,
Television,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Nico,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.