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 Namibia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Scratch Acid to the techno 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Aaron Thompson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hashim,
Wolf Eyes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Red Krayola,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
David Bowie,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q and Not U,
The Techniques,
Wally Richardson,
Siglo XX,
The Associates,
Peter and Kerry,
Wings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Los Fastidios,
Hasil Adkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Slits,
Scott Walker,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Wells,
Throbbing Gristle,
Negative Approach,
Pylon,
Maurizio,
Iggy Pop,
Gabor Szabo,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy Collins,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Almond,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ludus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Livin' Joy,
Donny Hathaway,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.