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 Liberia and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
H. Thieme,
The Doors,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
U.S. Maple,
Simply Red,
Connie Case,
Minor Threat,
The Durutti Column,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
Q and Not U,
The Saints,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
Zapp,
DNA,
The Monochrome Set,
Bluetip,
Moss Icon,
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
LL Cool J,
Crime,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Easy Going,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare,
Godley & Creme,
Organ,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
Bizarre Inc.,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
Thompson Twins,
Skarface,
The Pretty Things,
Sällskapet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.