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 Kenya and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Moby Grape 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Outsiders,
Roger Hodgson,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Black Flag,
The Selecter,
The Gories,
The Techniques,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hot Snakes,
Bang On A Can,
Skarface,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suburban Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Technova,
Camouflage,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Derrick May,
Mantronix,
DJ Style,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Seeds,
Joey Negro,
Glenn Branca,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Livin' Joy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Country Teasers,
Second Layer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Minutemen,
Minor Threat,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
the Normal,
John Holt,
The Beau Brummels,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
10cc,
Aaron Thompson,
Grauzone,
Tom Boy,
Carl Craig,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.