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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
New York Dolls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
The Cure,
Jerry's Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Smooth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Accadde A,
Byron Stingily,
Ultra Naté,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Steve Hackett,
Minnie Riperton,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
James White and The Blacks,
The Offenders,
Television,
Alison Limerick,
Black Pus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joyce Sims,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Loose Ends,
UT,
Dave Gahan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Infiniti,
PIL,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Thompson Twins,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Lynne,
10cc,
Peter and Kerry,
Ohio Players,
John Foxx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.