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 Antigua and from Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia 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 808 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 The Fortunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
DJ Sneak,
Lee Hazlewood,
Section 25,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Sherman,
Sarah Menescal,
Excepter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minor Threat,
Stockholm Monsters,
kango's stein massive,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Searchers,
Brothers Johnson,
R.M.O.,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
Khruangbin,
The Barracudas,
Magma,
Camouflage,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fall,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantytec,
Suburban Knight,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
The American Breed,
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
Dennis Brown,
The Durutti Column,
Livin' Joy,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.