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 Maldives and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Terry to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Nico,
New Order,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
U.S. Maple,
Interpol,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Shoche,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Little Man,
Kurtis Blow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ken Boothe,
Main Source,
The Vogues,
Lou Christie,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Ralphi Rosario,
Funkadelic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funky Four + One,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
Davy DMX,
The Offenders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Star Department,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Tres Demented,
Leonard Cohen,
Colin Newman,
Michelle Simonal,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
Minor Threat,
Bauhaus,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
JFA,
Marmalade,
Lindisfarne,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.