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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gichy Dan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Sällskapet,
Cal Tjader,
Sun City Girls,
K-Klass,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Amazonics,
the Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
June Days,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Malaria!,
Alice Coltrane,
The Happenings,
Lyres,
Arab on Radar,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
CMW,
Liliput,
The Techniques,
MDC,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
The Index,
Minutemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang of Four,
Derrick May,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
Arthur Verocai,
The Vogues,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.