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 South Africa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Freddie Wadling to the electroclash 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
The Index,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minnie Riperton,
Simply Red,
The Fall,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
The Tremeloes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Desert Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry's Kids,
The Stooges,
Magma,
One Last Wish,
Radio Birdman,
Leonard Cohen,
Harmonia,
Drexciya,
Nick Fraelich,
These Immortal Souls,
Grauzone,
Public Image Ltd.,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
Matthew Halsall,
ABBA,
Skriet,
Charles Mingus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
Kenny Larkin,
Public Enemy,
Yazoo,
Bush Tetras,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
The Evens,
The United States of America,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Moleskins,
K-Klass,
The Electric Prunes,
Davy DMX,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.