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 Iran and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Quadrant to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Radio Birdman,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shuggie Otis,
Nirvana,
Adolescents,
The Gories,
Schoolly D,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
Absolute Body Control,
Essential Logic,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Quando Quango,
X-102,
Chris Corsano,
Symarip,
Faust,
The Smiths,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
These Immortal Souls,
John Coltrane,
Technova,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Smog,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
OOIOO,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Carl Craig,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
Ponytail,
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
Jacques Brel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Saints,
Scott Walker,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.