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 Zambia and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 This Heat to the funk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Rotary Connection,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
Hardrive,
Black Pus,
Sugar Minott,
Depeche Mode,
Pere Ubu,
Donald Byrd,
Skarface,
Stereo Dub,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Dave Gahan,
Pole,
The Moody Blues,
Yazoo,
Scientists,
Blake Baxter,
June Days,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Sex Pistols,
Grauzone,
Kaleidoscope,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
The Zeros,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dead C,
June of 44,
Scrapy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
Heaven 17,
Matthew Halsall,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
Glambeats Corp.,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Barry Ungar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monks,
Ten City,
Minny Pops,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Erasure,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
The Doors,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.