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 Somalia and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Jandek to the grime 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Blancmange,
The Searchers,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
The Count Five,
Eddi Front,
Minny Pops,
Jeff Mills,
Intrusion,
The Smiths,
Steve Hackett,
Rotary Connection,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
The Dead C,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
Drexciya,
The Saints,
Matthew Bourne,
Monolake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Saccharine Trust,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
The Kinks,
the Human League,
Leonard Cohen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
UT,
Skriet,
Blossom Toes,
Black Moon,
The Fuzztones,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash,
Surgeon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
a-ha,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Rekid,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eurythmics,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Move,
The Raincoats,
Joe Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brick,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.