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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Camberwell Now to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Sound Behaviour,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DNA,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Ultra Naté,
The Doors,
Crash Course in Science,
Curtis Mayfield,
The New Christs,
Camberwell Now,
Clear Light,
Cecil Taylor,
The Walker Brothers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lakeside,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mark Hollis,
Iggy Pop,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crime,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Echospace,
Amon Düül,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Visage,
Wally Richardson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Remains,
Matthew Halsall,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Slits,
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Animal Collective,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
Deakin,
Peter and Kerry,
EPMD,
Graham Central Station,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quando Quango,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.