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 Tuvalu and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
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 theremin 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grime 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Buzzcocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marvin Gaye,
The Standells,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
Lindisfarne,
Theoretical Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
KRS-One,
Kenny Larkin,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minor Threat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grauzone,
Matthew Bourne,
Quando Quango,
Ossler,
Soft Machine,
Second Layer,
The Human League,
X-101,
Fifty Foot Hose,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sight & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Main Source,
Mantronix,
Eli Mardock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Offenders,
LL Cool J,
Supertramp,
Mo-Dettes,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
Thompson Twins,
Iggy Pop,
Whodini,
Gong,
Oneida,
Lungfish,
The Mummies,
New Order,
Bob Dylan,
Metal Thangz,
Reagan Youth,
Scientists,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.