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 Argentina and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 DJ Style to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Wake,
Dave Gahan,
The Gun Club,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
La Düsseldorf,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
Fat Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Associates,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Easy Going,
Suicide,
Unrelated Segments,
Mo-Dettes,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Angry Samoans,
The Mummies,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brass Construction,
L. Decosne,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
Excepter,
The Blackbyrds,
Clear Light,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
Panda Bear,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fear,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eddi Front,
Niagra,
Y Pants,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.