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 Marshall Islands and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mark Hollis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blancmange,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lalann,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Brothers Johnson,
Cal Tjader,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Quadrant,
Albert Ayler,
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Essential Logic,
The Tremeloes,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Age Steppers,
Lungfish,
Yaz,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Holt,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders,
The Golliwogs,
Ice-T,
Soulsonic Force,
Royal Trux,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
Franke,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Görl,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Massinfluence,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
Peter & Gordon,
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nico,
The Shadows of Knight,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.