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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bluetip to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Marvin Gaye,
Second Layer,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
Panda Bear,
Mars,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Holt,
CMW,
Zapp,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
Outsiders,
Chrome,
Gerry Rafferty,
Clear Light,
Juan Atkins,
The Misunderstood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy Collins,
Buzzcocks,
Aaron Thompson,
Depeche Mode,
Circle Jerks,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Marc Almond,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roger Hodgson,
Babytalk,
The Seeds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
Infiniti,
T.S.O.L.,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Brass Construction,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
Sexual Harrassment,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.