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 Latvia and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Thompson Twins to the grime 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
Mars,
K-Klass,
Ice-T,
Sparks,
Hoover,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Swans,
JFA,
Bronski Beat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Cameo,
Stiv Bators,
The Fuzztones,
Negative Approach,
Brass Construction,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Green,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Theoretical Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Christie,
Organ,
The Velvet Underground,
Scratch Acid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minny Pops,
John Holt,
Donald Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Quadrant,
Pet Shop Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Crime,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gabor Szabo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Move,
Section 25,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Flag,
Kaleidoscope,
Suicide,
Dead Boys,
One Last Wish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.