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 Tuvalu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Martian,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rapeman,
DJ Sneak,
Sarah Menescal,
Goldenarms,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Black Bananas,
Roxette,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mr. Review,
The Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
One Last Wish,
David Bowie,
Lungfish,
Infiniti,
Hardrive,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sister Nancy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sixth Finger,
Model 500,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
The Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Harmonia,
Roxy Music,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tubeway Army,
Chrome,
La Düsseldorf,
Sam Rivers,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
MDC,
The Pop Group,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.