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 Finland and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wally Richardson,
Talk Talk,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
the Slits,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
a-ha,
The Alarm Clocks,
Max Romeo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Terry Callier,
John Holt,
The Litter,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Icehouse,
The Modern Lovers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Silicon Teens,
The Birthday Party,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Faust,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gun Club,
OOIOO,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric B and Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
Soul II Soul,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs,
Roy Ayers,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
The Grass Roots,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.