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 Germany and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Blues Magoos to the dance 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Neil Young,
The Music Machine,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Jacob Miller,
Y Pants,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Star Department,
ABC,
Aloha Tigers,
Chrome,
Kas Product,
Faraquet,
Excepter,
Circle Jerks,
Royal Trux,
Trumans Water,
Freddie Wadling,
Ice-T,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
Letta Mbulu,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul II Soul,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Copeland,
Pantytec,
Goldenarms,
Desert Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
KRS-One,
Cecil Taylor,
Pagans,
One Last Wish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Loose Ends,
Sandy B,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.