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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Babytalk to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Au Pairs,
The Knickerbockers,
Circle Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
Mission of Burma,
Jacques Brel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Audionom,
the Swans,
cv313,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bob Dylan,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
The Monochrome Set,
Q and Not U,
Joey Negro,
JFA,
Cybotron,
Little Man,
The Martian,
Kayak,
Supertramp,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Heaven 17,
Lee Hazlewood,
Graham Central Station,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joe Smooth,
The Saints,
Boredoms,
The Motions,
Gang Green,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
Goldenarms,
Masters at Work,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ponytail,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Hood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Human League,
Magma,
Darondo,
David McCallum,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sam Rivers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-101,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.