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 Canada and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Judy Mowatt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks 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?
The Pop Group,
the Normal,
The Seeds,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rapeman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scratch Acid,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Morten Harket,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rosa Yemen,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Accadde A,
The Stooges,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Max Romeo,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Moleskins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nirvana,
The Count Five,
DNA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Scott Walker,
Nik Kershaw,
Bob Dylan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
Sight & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thee Headcoats,
Henry Cow,
The Barracudas,
MDC,
Barry Ungar,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
Suburban Knight,
Ronan,
Warsaw,
Echospace,
Faraquet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.