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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 The Birthday Party to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
Erasure,
Dead Boys,
Guru Guru,
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Camouflage,
T.S.O.L.,
Eden Ahbez,
Skriet,
Pantaleimon,
the Bar-Kays,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Angels of Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Surgeon,
UT,
FM Einheit,
Rhythm & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sarah Menescal,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
The Count Five,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
Crooked Eye,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sam Rivers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Smooth,
Camberwell Now,
The American Breed,
Rufus Thomas,
Spoonie Gee,
Eurythmics,
Fear,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.