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 Tajikistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Music Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Deepchord,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Parry Music,
Soulsonic Force,
Cymande,
Youth Brigade,
Morten Harket,
Juan Atkins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monks,
The Human League,
Rapeman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Slick Rick,
Rites of Spring,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Massinfluence,
Jawbox,
Quando Quango,
Warsaw,
Sam Rivers,
Clear Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wings,
Bill Wells,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Bar-Kays,
E-Dancer,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
Peter & Gordon,
Tim Buckley,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Barclay James Harvest,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Enemy,
The Birthday Party,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott Heron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
The Barracudas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.