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 Korea North and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Toasters,
Roxette,
Kerri Chandler,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Neu!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
Wolf Eyes,
Shuggie Otis,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Nirvana,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
Neil Young,
Robert Wyatt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Goldenarms,
The Raincoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Altered Images,
The Wake,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suburban Knight,
Sugar Minott,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
The Red Krayola,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Newcleus,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Be Bop Deluxe,
This Heat,
Faraquet,
The Black Dice,
Angry Samoans,
Eric B and Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
X-102,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.