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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mummies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Monks,
The Dead C,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
Oneida,
the Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Janne Schatter,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
the Human League,
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Pet Shop Boys,
JFA,
Matthew Bourne,
Little Man,
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
Bang On A Can,
Television Personalities,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Toni Rubio,
June Days,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Bluetip,
One Last Wish,
The Wake,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Delta 5,
Index,
Television,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
Grauzone,
Unrelated Segments,
Altered Images,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gap Band,
Jacob Miller,
The Index,
Black Moon,
Lou Christie,
Ronan,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Reagan Youth,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.