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 Tanzania and from Delhi.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Groovy Waters,
Blancmange,
Al Stewart,
F. McDonald,
Piero Umiliani,
T.S.O.L.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Yaz,
Accadde A,
Scrapy,
David McCallum,
DNA,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
A Certain Ratio,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
PIL,
Crooked Eye,
Graham Central Station,
The American Breed,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smiths,
Little Man,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dave Clark Five,
Carl Craig,
Clear Light,
Monolake,
Nirvana,
Bill Wells,
Zapp,
David Axelrod,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television,
Suicide,
Slick Rick,
Throbbing Gristle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
Fatback Band,
Guru Guru,
Fad Gadget,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.