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 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Gong,
Masters at Work,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crash Course in Science,
Eli Mardock,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Mark Hollis,
Black Pus,
The Cure,
The United States of America,
Monolake,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gabor Szabo,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks,
The American Breed,
The Residents,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
ABC,
the Soft Cell,
Fela Kuti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Ash Ra Tempel,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Zero Boys,
Amazonics,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
Blancmange,
Shoche,
Bill Wells,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oblivians,
Connie Case,
Sparks,
the Normal,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra,
Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented,
Young Marble Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.