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 Papua New Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 Tropical Tobacco to the punk 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Ponytail,
The Happenings,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
Chris & Cosey,
Pylon,
Black Moon,
Lalann,
Glenn Branca,
Gong,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Delta 5,
Charles Mingus,
Rosa Yemen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quantec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index,
Public Image Ltd.,
Television,
The Cure,
Alphaville,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lakeside,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Trumans Water,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Red Krayola,
Slick Rick,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
Lalo Schifrin,
Buzzcocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slackers,
Lucky Dragons,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Heaven 17,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Bronski Beat,
Stiv Bators,
Deakin,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
The Cowsills,
The Kinks,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.