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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Suburban Knight,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Christie,
Magazine,
Faraquet,
The New Christs,
The Walker Brothers,
Quadrant,
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suicide,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
ABC,
The Star Department,
Chris Corsano,
The Remains,
T.S.O.L.,
Accadde A,
Blake Baxter,
Radiopuhelimet,
This Heat,
the Germs,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
The Leaves,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Max Romeo,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moody Blues,
Duran Duran,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bill Near,
ABBA,
Joyce Sims,
MDC,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stetsasonic,
Skaos,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Nik Kershaw,
Interpol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.