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 Seoul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Marine Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Joey Negro,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
Swell Maps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül II,
The Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eurythmics,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Niagra,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
The Searchers,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
Bill Near,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
The Human League,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cal Tjader,
The Velvet Underground,
The Invisible,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fugs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
B.T. Express,
The Techniques,
The Kinks,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ludus,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
X-102,
Soft Cell,
Iggy Pop,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.