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 Mali and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Misunderstood to the funk 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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Toasters,
The Trojans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
Ohio Players,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
The Human League,
The Gladiators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
This Heat,
Quadrant,
Mo-Dettes,
The Names,
the Human League,
Ice-T,
Mission of Burma,
Davy DMX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Freddie Wadling,
F. McDonald,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Excepter,
Hardrive,
Lucky Dragons,
Piero Umiliani,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cowsills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Pulsallama,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
LL Cool J,
The Real Kids,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.