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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Flash Fearless,
John Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Erykah Badu,
UT,
Henry Cow,
The Tremeloes,
Idris Muhammad,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Ituana,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Technova,
Minutemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Crime,
Sugar Minott,
Circle Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris & Cosey,
Gong,
Marmalade,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Leaves,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The United States of America,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
Ten City,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalo Schifrin,
Basic Channel,
Ice-T,
the Normal,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Finger,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
Trumans Water,
Skaos,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Bauhaus,
The Five Americans,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bob Dylan,
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.