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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 The Beau Brummels to the rock 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minnie Riperton,
DNA,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
DJ Style,
Unrelated Segments,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Quadrant,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Malaria!,
Pere Ubu,
Howard Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker,
the Sonics,
The Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
Fad Gadget,
Black Moon,
The Gap Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Inner City,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Public Enemy,
Parry Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Clear Light,
Camouflage,
Scion,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
D'Angelo,
The Fuzztones,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Adolescents,
James Chance & The Contortions,
R.M.O.,
Rod Modell,
Grey Daturas,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
Colin Newman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Index,
Surgeon,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.