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 Sierra Leone and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Arthur Verocai 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Cybotron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
Warsaw,
The Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Deadbeat,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Carl Craig,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
The Vogues,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
CMW,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Almond,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eurythmics,
Charles Mingus,
Lungfish,
Young Marble Giants,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Skriet,
The Doors,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mr. Review,
Lalo Schifrin,
Franke,
Mantronix,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terry Callier,
Connie Case,
Audionom,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
Blake Baxter,
the Sonics,
Panda Bear,
Laurel Aitken,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
Funkadelic,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.