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 Bolivia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Modern Lovers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Flipper,
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
Neu!,
Malaria!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Depeche Mode,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABC,
Roxy Music,
Technova,
Tim Buckley,
Pagans,
Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Hood,
The J.B.'s,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Bowie,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Parrish,
Black Pus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-101,
Peter & Gordon,
Massinfluence,
Spoonie Gee,
The Misunderstood,
Sun City Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultravox,
T. Rex,
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pussy Galore,
Deakin,
Warren Ellis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
Don Cherry,
Black Bananas,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Danielle Patucci,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.