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 Tonga and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Banda Bassotti 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Interpol,
B.T. Express,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Bananas,
Motorama,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fortunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
R.M.O.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lightning Bolt,
Bluetip,
Matthew Bourne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The J.B.'s,
Dennis Brown,
The Monks,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra,
Darondo,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
New York Dolls,
The Techniques,
Bob Dylan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soul Sonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris & Cosey,
Sixth Finger,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funky Four + One,
Pussy Galore,
Cymande,
Desert Stars,
Eddi Front,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
Schoolly D,
Metal Thangz,
Stiv Bators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fluxion,
Q and Not U,
Kayak,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
Pylon,
Sparks,
Cal Tjader,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.