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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the rock 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Barrington Levy,
New Age Steppers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Newcleus,
Gang of Four,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare,
The Divine Comedy,
Hoover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scientists,
Ultravox,
Black Moon,
Nils Olav,
The Victims,
Unrelated Segments,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Loose Ends,
Dawn Penn,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slick Rick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Japan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DNA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
Isaac Hayes,
Marmalade,
Crime,
Sparks,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeff Mills,
Skaos,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.