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 Azerbaijan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
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 guitar 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
Sällskapet,
Howard Jones,
Niagra,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Eurythmics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Zapp,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
Deepchord,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultravox,
Zero Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
Ludus,
ABBA,
Can,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
E-Dancer,
Symarip,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-101,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
Thompson Twins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Main Source,
Infiniti,
Lucky Dragons,
Cheater Slicks,
Neu!,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-102,
Fad Gadget,
Pantytec,
Japan,
Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Suburban Knight,
The Selecter,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.