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 Suriname and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Cheater Slicks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Swans,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Blancmange,
Inner City,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Althea and Donna,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Iggy Pop,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grauzone,
Kool Moe Dee,
Popol Vuh,
OOIOO,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bluetip,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
the Slits,
Bauhaus,
the Human League,
Fatback Band,
Q65,
The Star Department,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
The Divine Comedy,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
Sonic Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
The Dead C,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
Ultravox,
The New Christs,
Magma,
Mark Hollis,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.