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 Vietnam and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masters at Work to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Carl Craig,
Brand Nubian,
Don Cherry,
Cybotron,
Slick Rick,
Parry Music,
Little Man,
The Fortunes,
E-Dancer,
X-101,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
Yellowson,
Pussy Galore,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
Agitation Free,
Bang On A Can,
Tears for Fears,
Maurizio,
Ultra Naté,
Television,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hashim,
The Sound,
D'Angelo,
Ultravox,
Rotary Connection,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Tim Buckley,
Peter and Kerry,
John Lydon,
Banda Bassotti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aswad,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
The Misunderstood,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.