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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 Minutemen 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Victims,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Amon Düül II,
Eric Copeland,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pussy Galore,
Vladislav Delay,
Deadbeat,
X-102,
Siglo XX,
The Modern Lovers,
The Music Machine,
The Zeros,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
Erykah Badu,
Henry Cow,
Kaleidoscope,
Lyres,
Minor Threat,
Nirvana,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
Royal Trux,
Smog,
The Residents,
Make Up,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Drive Like Jehu,
Leonard Cohen,
Dark Day,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
Faust,
Kenny Larkin,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter and Kerry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reuben Wilson,
ABBA,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
Aaron Thompson,
Basic Channel,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.