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 Serbia and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Faraquet 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Pussy Galore,
The J.B.'s,
Swell Maps,
Slave,
The Index,
Public Enemy,
Procol Harum,
PIL,
Theoretical Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Almond,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ossler,
Roxette,
The New Christs,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
Terrestrial Tones,
Davy DMX,
Dave Gahan,
Duran Duran,
China Crisis,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Soulsonic Force,
K-Klass,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joyce Sims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Schoolly D,
Harry Pussy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Al Stewart,
Chrome,
Moebius,
The Young Rascals,
Cecil Taylor,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Lungfish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
H. Thieme,
The Leaves,
Babytalk,
Kurtis Blow,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.