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 Mauritania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scott Walker to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Bananas,
Juan Atkins,
the Normal,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Leonard Cohen,
Gong,
the Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Little Man,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
The Standells,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
the Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
10cc,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Evens,
Lou Reed,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
Silicon Teens,
The Young Rascals,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Suburban Knight,
New Order,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
Half Japanese,
The Leaves,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
Graham Central Station,
Yusef Lateef,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.