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 Nepal and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Black Sheep,
Kayak,
Altered Images,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Qualms,
Technova,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Franke,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brand Nubian,
Tubeway Army,
L. Decosne,
David Axelrod,
Duran Duran,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Infiniti,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Neu!,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
The Fall,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun Ra,
Fear,
Nirvana,
Rites of Spring,
Tim Buckley,
Animal Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
Danielle Patucci,
Mo-Dettes,
Dawn Penn,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New York Dolls,
Lakeside,
The Gladiators,
Moss Icon,
Steve Hackett,
Roxette,
Lower 48,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.