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 Nauru and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Suburban Knight,
China Crisis,
Television Personalities,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
The Five Americans,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Surgeon,
Sun City Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Bob Dylan,
John Foxx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ornette Coleman,
Vladislav Delay,
Chris & Cosey,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brand Nubian,
Trumans Water,
The Selecter,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Porter Ricks,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Groovy Waters,
The Birthday Party,
Icehouse,
Peter & Gordon,
June of 44,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül,
Archie Shepp,
Roxy Music,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Gang Starr,
The Stooges,
Yaz,
Alison Limerick,
Patti Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Technova,
Marc Almond,
Nirvana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Knickerbockers,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mad Mike,
Connie Case,
The Modern Lovers,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.