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 Djibouti and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mojo Men to the grunge 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Names,
Little Man,
The Index,
Grey Daturas,
Goldenarms,
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
The Music Machine,
The Leaves,
The Pop Group,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
Eden Ahbez,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Byron Stingily,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Gong,
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics,
Roxette,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra,
Mad Mike,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Magma,
Eurythmics,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Janne Schatter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ten City,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nation of Ulysses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
Tim Buckley,
Sister Nancy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oblivians,
the Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
The Count Five,
Angry Samoans,
John Lydon,
X-101,
Liliput,
Darondo,
The Doors,
The Red Krayola,
Charles Mingus,
Slave,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
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.