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 Brazil and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Quando Quango to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Visage,
Sonic Youth,
The Invisible,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nas,
Howard Jones,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
Spandau Ballet,
Swans,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
Urselle,
The Blackbyrds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nico,
Suicide,
Janne Schatter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brand Nubian,
Thompson Twins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
ABBA,
The Young Rascals,
X-102,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
Whodini,
Max Romeo,
Franke,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
The American Breed,
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
Idris Muhammad,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cowsills,
Bluetip,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Ponytail,
The Doors,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kurtis Blow,
Glenn Branca,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.