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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Offenders,
The Detroit Cobras,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Connie Case,
Ultra Naté,
Barrington Levy,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Green,
10cc,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Pulsallama,
Hasil Adkins,
Q65,
Groovy Waters,
Minny Pops,
The Golliwogs,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeff Lynne,
Donny Hathaway,
China Crisis,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sixth Finger,
Patti Smith,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
Underground Resistance,
Alton Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Howard Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radio Birdman,
Boredoms,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
One Last Wish,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.