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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Livin' Joy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest 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?
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Certain Ratio,
Yaz,
Connie Case,
CMW,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bizarre Inc.,
Whodini,
Bush Tetras,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Swans,
Alton Ellis,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dead C,
H. Thieme,
Al Stewart,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bronski Beat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Urselle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
The Monochrome Set,
The Trojans,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Lightning Bolt,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
The Gun Club,
AZ,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Wyatt,
Wire,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
X-Ray Spex,
Von Mondo,
Yazoo,
Blancmange,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Human League,
Nico,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Germs,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.