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 Netherlands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Visage to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Half Japanese,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Selecter,
The Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Icehouse,
Eddi Front,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
Prince Buster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
Metal Thangz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
The Standells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
John Lydon,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
The Fortunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kas Product,
Marc Almond,
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
Joey Negro,
ABC,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
Gerry Rafferty,
UT,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glenn Branca,
Accadde A,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Ohio Players,
Jeff Mills,
The Moleskins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott Heron,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.