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 Senegal and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Index 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Lalann,
Cybotron,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
EPMD,
Michelle Simonal,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
Magazine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sex Pistols,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
K-Klass,
Kas Product,
Fatback Band,
Ohio Players,
Technova,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
Circle Jerks,
Ponytail,
Symarip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
The Young Rascals,
Jawbox,
Janne Schatter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dead Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
Hoover,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
Mad Mike,
UT,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Television Personalities,
Panda Bear,
The Busters,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gap Band,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.