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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jawbox,
Wings,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris Corsano,
Amon Düül,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
Clear Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Hot Snakes,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
Gang Green,
Skarface,
Duran Duran,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Khruangbin,
MDC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Brick,
The Invisible,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zapp,
The Offenders,
Crash Course in Science,
Dave Gahan,
DNA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The New Christs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Radio Birdman,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Sugar Minott,
Rekid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Görl,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Lee Hazlewood,
PIL,
Aswad,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
Sight & Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.