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 Jordan 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the disco 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Duran Duran,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Arcadia,
Radio Birdman,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
Stiv Bators,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blues Magoos,
Visage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Intrusion,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Cymande,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonic Youth,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Severed Heads,
The Zeros,
Sam Rivers,
The Sonics,
Unwound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jandek,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
John Foxx,
Blake Baxter,
Panda Bear,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacob Miller,
The Tremeloes,
Sight & Sound,
The Raincoats,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Joyce Sims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.