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 Uruguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
Rosa Yemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
Shoche,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Man Parrish,
the Swans,
Flipper,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Womack,
UT,
Desert Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
The Moody Blues,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Sugar Minott,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
Hot Snakes,
Kas Product,
Prince Buster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oneida,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Sheep,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Jeff Mills,
Masters at Work,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.