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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Zapp to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Eddi Front,
H. Thieme,
Radio Birdman,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
Cybotron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The United States of America,
Ossler,
The Velvet Underground,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Copeland,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
The Happenings,
Wasted Youth,
The Invisible,
David Axelrod,
Nik Kershaw,
Laurel Aitken,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Niagra,
Ultra Naté,
Inner City,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Swell Maps,
Connie Case,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
Drexciya,
Deakin,
The Fall,
Susan Cadogan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Isaac Hayes,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
Television,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Half Japanese,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scott Walker,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.