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 Morocco and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 The Blues Magoos to the grunge 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
Basic Channel,
Scrapy,
Niagra,
Amazonics,
The Happenings,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Q and Not U,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rod Modell,
Cameo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Talk Talk,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonic Youth,
Neil Young,
Chris Corsano,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Black Dice,
Au Pairs,
Quando Quango,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerrie Biddell,
June of 44,
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fatback Band,
MC5,
Roxette,
The Kinks,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nico,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mad Mike,
The Doobie Brothers,
Easy Going,
Supertramp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Al Stewart,
Arab on Radar,
Laurel Aitken,
A Certain Ratio,
Zapp,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gerry Rafferty,
Desert Stars,
Derrick May,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.