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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Talk Talk to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Kayak,
Neu!,
Maurizio,
Pierre Henry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Archie Shepp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Scientists,
Black Sheep,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bronski Beat,
Panda Bear,
Model 500,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moody Blues,
Alice Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Motorama,
Swans,
Bad Manners,
Roger Hodgson,
Fear,
Boredoms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Glenn Branca,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
F. McDonald,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
Lalo Schifrin,
Popol Vuh,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zero Boys,
PIL,
Rekid,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brick,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.