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 Bangladesh and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DJ Sneak to the jazz 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Das Ding,
The Birthday Party,
Alison Limerick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Near,
T.S.O.L.,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
B.T. Express,
PIL,
Barbara Tucker,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gap Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
China Crisis,
The Seeds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Piero Umiliani,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gladiators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
L. Decosne,
The Remains,
Suicide,
Jandek,
La Düsseldorf,
F. McDonald,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mad Mike,
Kenny Larkin,
Young Marble Giants,
the Normal,
Nils Olav,
Kayak,
Ohio Players,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.