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 United Kingdom and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Lightning Bolt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed 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?
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
Henry Cow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moss Icon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Mo-Dettes,
Tears for Fears,
Liliput,
Flash Fearless,
Kerri Chandler,
Eddi Front,
Suicide,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Silicon Teens,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gichy Dan,
Reuben Wilson,
Underground Resistance,
The Raincoats,
Ken Boothe,
Sun City Girls,
Sugar Minott,
The Remains,
Metal Thangz,
Joey Negro,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Axelrod,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang On A Can,
Technova,
Archie Shepp,
Dennis Brown,
Gang Starr,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Bar-Kays,
Quadrant,
Pulsallama,
Essential Logic,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
Pierre Henry,
Loose Ends,
DJ Sneak,
Howard Jones,
Mars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cowsills,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.