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 Bahamas and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gabor Szabo to the rock 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Joy Division,
the Germs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yazoo,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
Suicide,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
PIL,
Joe Finger,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Q65,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Dolphy,
Morten Harket,
Radiohead,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kaleidoscope,
Scan 7,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
The Names,
The Red Krayola,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
Sam Rivers,
Funky Four + One,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Almond,
Bronski Beat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
H. Thieme,
The Buckinghams,
LL Cool J,
Gastr Del Sol,
Animal Collective,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.