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 Gambia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 L. Decosne to the disco 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Television,
Q65,
Symarip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Red Krayola,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Green,
Electric Prunes,
DJ Style,
Matthew Halsall,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lightning Bolt,
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
EPMD,
MDC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thee Headcoats,
Janne Schatter,
Sandy B,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brass Construction,
Porter Ricks,
Jandek,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Deakin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Bananas,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
Sex Pistols,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Rundgren,
Grey Daturas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Visage,
Ponytail,
Scion,
Peter & Gordon,
Bauhaus,
Warren Ellis,
Michelle Simonal,
Franke,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.