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 Gambia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
The Skatalites,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harmonia,
Saccharine Trust,
Harry Pussy,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
The Fuzztones,
Albert Ayler,
Eddi Front,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anakelly,
Moss Icon,
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
Delta 5,
Visage,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quadrant,
Johnny Clarke,
Leonard Cohen,
Marmalade,
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
The Fall,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Five Americans,
Judy Mowatt,
Brand Nubian,
Lungfish,
Dave Gahan,
Pantaleimon,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Funkadelic,
Parry Music,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.