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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Wells to the crunk 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
Icehouse,
Metal Thangz,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
Moss Icon,
Groovy Waters,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fall,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
The Star Department,
Joyce Sims,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
The Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blancmange,
James White and The Blacks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
Lindisfarne,
Oneida,
Black Flag,
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television Personalities,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Schoolly D,
MC5,
Dual Sessions,
Iggy Pop,
Black Moon,
Altered Images,
June of 44,
Isaac Hayes,
L. Decosne,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
The Names,
the Swans,
Urselle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Khruangbin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.