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 Peru and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Spoonie Gee to the grime 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
Tom Boy,
The Gun Club,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
Lyres,
Symarip,
Rod Modell,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
Banda Bassotti,
Brick,
Ohio Players,
The Slackers,
The Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
FM Einheit,
Agent Orange,
UT,
Pulsallama,
The Moody Blues,
Ice-T,
Robert Hood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Severed Heads,
Kevin Saunderson,
June Days,
Camouflage,
Marmalade,
Mad Mike,
Alphaville,
Minny Pops,
kango's stein massive,
Archie Shepp,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mark Hollis,
Eurythmics,
Suburban Knight,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.