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 Jamaica and from Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare 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 Gong to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Real Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
Radiohead,
Jeff Mills,
Negative Approach,
Sandy B,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Magma,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
Jandek,
Angry Samoans,
Roger Hodgson,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
John Holt,
the Normal,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
Motorama,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mummies,
Peter & Gordon,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
The Raincoats,
Robert Görl,
In Retrospect,
Sound Behaviour,
Scrapy,
Brand Nubian,
The Fugs,
Sparks,
Lebanon Hanover,
One Last Wish,
Funky Four + One,
Glenn Branca,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gories,
Neu!,
Black Flag,
Bob Dylan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.