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 Eritrea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the punk 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
X-Ray Spex,
Y Pants,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
The Star Department,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fortunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Infiniti,
Porter Ricks,
Model 500,
Fear,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funkadelic,
MDC,
Motorama,
Suicide,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Leonard Cohen,
The Remains,
Roxy Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Lindisfarne,
Shuggie Otis,
Scrapy,
Swell Maps,
Mad Mike,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Unrelated Segments,
The American Breed,
Panda Bear,
Pantaleimon,
Sister Nancy,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Boz Scaggs,
X-101,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Sight & Sound,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.