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 Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
Ultra Naté,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
Quantec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lucky Dragons,
The Motions,
Amon Düül,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moleskins,
Marc Almond,
ABBA,
Pole,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
Talk Talk,
Deepchord,
Aswad,
The Offenders,
Sight & Sound,
Moebius,
Desert Stars,
Little Man,
The Smiths,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Kinks,
Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Malaria!,
Erasure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Human League,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
The Stooges,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
the Normal,
Absolute Body Control,
Grey Daturas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glenn Branca,
Alison Limerick,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang of Four,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Groovy Waters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.