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 Jamaica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Television,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
Marmalade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yazoo,
Skaos,
Unwound,
Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
Nico,
Terrestrial Tones,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
The Neon Judgement,
Wally Richardson,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Rosa Yemen,
Jandek,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric Copeland,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Junior Murvin,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Association,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dead C,
Soulsonic Force,
John Coltrane,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Finger,
Erasure,
Lower 48,
Toni Rubio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.