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 Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bluetip to the grunge 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
John Lydon,
The Star Department,
Cheater Slicks,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gong,
The Sound,
The Names,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Monks,
Jandek,
Bootsy Collins,
E-Dancer,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Whodini,
The New Christs,
Neu!,
Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oblivians,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
John Foxx,
Bobby Sherman,
Sam Rivers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cure,
Pantytec,
Bobby Womack,
Pulsallama,
Eden Ahbez,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Darondo,
Rotary Connection,
Boz Scaggs,
Dennis Brown,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
The Misunderstood,
David Axelrod,
Depeche Mode,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.