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 Taiwan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Bobby Womack to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Dark Day,
Circle Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Evens,
Aural Exciters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Associates,
Eric Dolphy,
Spandau Ballet,
Grauzone,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
Procol Harum,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jandek,
These Immortal Souls,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
Ossler,
Von Mondo,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Suicide,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q and Not U,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scan 7,
Michelle Simonal,
Livin' Joy,
Tommy Roe,
Wally Richardson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reagan Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Danielle Patucci,
Vainqueur,
Franke,
R.M.O.,
Soulsonic Force,
Judy Mowatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Prince Buster,
Boogie Down Productions,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.