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 Grenada and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Infiniti to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Rufus Thomas,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Birthday Party,
Joey Negro,
Sex Pistols,
F. McDonald,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Main Source,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aural Exciters,
ABBA,
Amazonics,
Procol Harum,
Howard Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
The Angels of Light,
Colin Newman,
Mantronix,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
The Wake,
Royal Trux,
Theoretical Girls,
Terry Callier,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
The Buckinghams,
Angry Samoans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bob Dylan,
Bluetip,
Monolake,
Whodini,
Mark Hollis,
The Busters,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris Corsano,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Morten Harket,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
kango's stein massive,
The Monochrome Set,
Glenn Branca,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
The Standells,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.