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 Palau and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Hashim,
Magazine,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Warsaw,
Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
Circle Jerks,
Arcadia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heaven 17,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bootsy Collins,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crime,
Slick Rick,
the Normal,
Alison Limerick,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
The Residents,
DNA,
Visage,
The Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
The Walker Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
X-101,
Shoche,
Bluetip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Remains,
Young Marble Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Ituana,
Davy DMX,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
Shuggie Otis,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.