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 Niger and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 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 The Move to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Agitation Free,
The Misunderstood,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
The Last Poets,
MDC,
Dead Boys,
Drexciya,
The Red Krayola,
Joyce Sims,
Iggy Pop,
Marc Almond,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
Robert Görl,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gong,
Magazine,
Cybotron,
F. McDonald,
Rapeman,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
Khruangbin,
Siglo XX,
Mantronix,
Technova,
Black Flag,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
The Doors,
Moebius,
Goldenarms,
U.S. Maple,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tom Boy,
Icehouse,
The Raincoats,
Sight & Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultravox,
Brothers Johnson,
Wasted Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Move,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Los Fastidios,
Television Personalities,
The Victims,
Flipper,
Crooked Eye,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.