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 Salvador.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Young Marble Giants to the crunk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Magma,
Jerry's Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Lyres,
Iggy Pop,
Mr. Review,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hot Snakes,
Neu!,
The Smiths,
Panda Bear,
Dead Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Deadbeat,
Minny Pops,
Accadde A,
Marine Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
June Days,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
The United States of America,
X-101,
The Blues Magoos,
Altered Images,
Henry Cow,
JFA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Ronnie Foster,
David Bowie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
EPMD,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Offenders,
Jacob Miller,
China Crisis,
Chris & Cosey,
Warsaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
The Durutti Column,
The Birthday Party,
John Lydon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suburban Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
Livin' Joy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.