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 Ecuador and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Scion,
The Standells,
The Remains,
Crime,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Near,
Bootsy Collins,
kango's stein massive,
Easy Going,
Oneida,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Sheep,
Zapp,
Stetsasonic,
The Black Dice,
Flipper,
Albert Ayler,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispian St. Peters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Motorama,
Juan Atkins,
Banda Bassotti,
The American Breed,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Newcleus,
Josef K,
Liliput,
The Durutti Column,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
The Walker Brothers,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Patti Smith,
Moby Grape,
Dawn Penn,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Foxx,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.