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 Romania and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alison Limerick to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads,
Leonard Cohen,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
a-ha,
Can,
The Star Department,
Subhumans,
Rosa Yemen,
ABBA,
Ituana,
Slave,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Liliput,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Searchers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Saints,
Kaleidoscope,
Khruangbin,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Half Japanese,
Japan,
Prince Buster,
Supertramp,
Eddi Front,
Little Man,
The Offenders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-102,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camberwell Now,
Sugar Minott,
The Dead C,
Fugazi,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joey Negro,
The Fortunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eden Ahbez,
Faraquet,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.