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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Peter and Kerry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Shadows of Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Minutemen,
One Last Wish,
F. McDonald,
The United States of America,
Public Image Ltd.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lower 48,
Fluxion,
Basic Channel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
Bobby Sherman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Flesh Eaters,
CMW,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
The Gap Band,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül II,
Colin Newman,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Japan,
Judy Mowatt,
Cameo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vainqueur,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pussy Galore,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Starr,
Funkadelic,
Unrelated Segments,
Cybotron,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quadrant,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Excepter,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.