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 Bahamas and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cecil Taylor to the techno 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Sandy B,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
the Swans,
Public Enemy,
Alice Coltrane,
La Düsseldorf,
Flash Fearless,
R.M.O.,
Rosa Yemen,
Yaz,
Can,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Slits,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Hasil Adkins,
10cc,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
Wings,
The Leaves,
Deepchord,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oblivians,
Eddi Front,
Toni Rubio,
Arab on Radar,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
Neil Young,
Grey Daturas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Smog,
The J.B.'s,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Skarface,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.