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 Chile and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Adolescents to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
The Cure,
Kerrie Biddell,
The American Breed,
The Victims,
Aloha Tigers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Talk Talk,
Harry Pussy,
Khruangbin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Das Ding,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sonny Sharrock,
Clear Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ken Boothe,
Traffic Nightmare,
In Retrospect,
Funkadelic,
The Mojo Men,
The Star Department,
Radio Birdman,
Neu!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Soul Sonic Force,
The United States of America,
Maleditus Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Lydon,
Subhumans,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Jacques Brel,
Spoonie Gee,
Audionom,
John Holt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soul II Soul,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
Whodini,
Delon & Dalcan,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.