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 Norway and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Maurizio to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Robert Hood,
Mad Mike,
Bill Near,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zapp,
Harry Pussy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lungfish,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magazine,
Audionom,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masters at Work,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Archie Shepp,
The Names,
Lower 48,
Vladislav Delay,
Kaleidoscope,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
The Star Department,
Scrapy,
Cluster,
Organ,
Stereo Dub,
David Axelrod,
Alton Ellis,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Ohio Players,
The Fortunes,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scan 7,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mr. Review,
The New Christs,
10cc,
The Move,
Con Funk Shun,
Donald Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
The Techniques,
Depeche Mode,
ABBA,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang On A Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Happenings,
Sparks,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.