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 Switzerland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet 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 The Remains to the funk 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
U.S. Maple,
The Music Machine,
The Motions,
Amazonics,
Sex Pistols,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
Niagra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cymande,
Fat Boys,
Faust,
Popol Vuh,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
The Monks,
Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sonic Youth,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
Godley & Creme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
Scan 7,
Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispy Ambulance,
Youth Brigade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Alison Limerick,
the Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wire,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
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.