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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Big Daddy Kane 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
The Victims,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers,
The Standells,
PIL,
The Busters,
Buzzcocks,
Anthony Braxton,
Bush Tetras,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Scientists,
Sandy B,
Pylon,
Royal Trux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Shoche,
Carl Craig,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Dave Gahan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ossler,
Lakeside,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rekid,
Maleditus Sound,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
Cymande,
The Invisible,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Fluxion,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Erasure,
The Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.