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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kurtis Blow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Trumans Water,
X-102,
New York Dolls,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
Connie Case,
Pussy Galore,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantytec,
Smog,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mantronix,
F. McDonald,
Darondo,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Almond,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warren Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grey Daturas,
The Tremeloes,
Stetsasonic,
Gong,
Dave Gahan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Order,
Eurythmics,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chris Corsano,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Joe Finger,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
Gang of Four,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Magazine,
DJ Style,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare,
Ituana,
Fatback Band,
Moebius,
Television,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy Collins,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.