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 Portugal and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
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 theremin 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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
Youth Brigade,
Connie Case,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Adolescents,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dual Sessions,
New Order,
Goldenarms,
Procol Harum,
Von Mondo,
Audionom,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Al Stewart,
Urselle,
Newcleus,
Judy Mowatt,
Ronan,
Sight & Sound,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
a-ha,
Harry Pussy,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warsaw,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
Mantronix,
Joe Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
Subhumans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.