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 Tonga and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the dance 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
Marc Almond,
Wasted Youth,
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blancmange,
Letta Mbulu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
The Angels of Light,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Monolake,
Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Eden Ahbez,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
Minutemen,
Skarface,
Johnny Osbourne,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Durutti Column,
Duran Duran,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bush Tetras,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
Youth Brigade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Lakeside,
Neil Young,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
The Tremeloes,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.