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 Liechtenstein and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Sex Pistols,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris & Cosey,
Metal Thangz,
H. Thieme,
Dawn Penn,
Slave,
10cc,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blues Magoos,
Pole,
The Monks,
Henry Cow,
Intrusion,
Quantec,
Fugazi,
New Age Steppers,
Kayak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deakin,
Ten City,
Roger Hodgson,
R.M.O.,
Sonic Youth,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
This Heat,
Ultravox,
DJ Style,
OOIOO,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Make Up,
Swell Maps,
DJ Sneak,
Iggy Pop,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Fad Gadget,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
a-ha,
Colin Newman,
The Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Newcleus,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.