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 Guyana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes 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 Deadbeat to the techno 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
the Soft Cell,
Urselle,
Marcia Griffiths,
Colin Newman,
Black Flag,
June of 44,
Silicon Teens,
Gabor Szabo,
Yellowson,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gong,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Sherman,
The Techniques,
The Durutti Column,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Busters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Junior Murvin,
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Litter,
Tim Buckley,
The Gun Club,
Cybotron,
Jacques Brel,
Aaron Thompson,
Darondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Section 25,
Bang On A Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Moon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Christie,
a-ha,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hasil Adkins,
Q65,
Radio Birdman,
Royal Trux,
Isaac Hayes,
EPMD,
Pole,
Mr. Review,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.