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 Marshall Islands 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Young Marble Giants,
Scan 7,
Black Sheep,
Brand Nubian,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
Sugar Minott,
Pussy Galore,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Lalann,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lindisfarne,
David McCallum,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Dark Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Saints,
The Trojans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rosa Yemen,
Lakeside,
Suicide,
Amon Düül II,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ponytail,
New Order,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angry Samoans,
The Young Rascals,
The Evens,
The Blues Magoos,
Ten City,
Albert Ayler,
Minnie Riperton,
the Bar-Kays,
Procol Harum,
Parry Music,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül,
Alison Limerick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.