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 Moldova and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Wire to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Eurythmics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
Talk Talk,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
Marine Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
Harmonia,
The Selecter,
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
The Skatalites,
Althea and Donna,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
David McCallum,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sarah Menescal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Almond,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
Intrusion,
The Doors,
Nik Kershaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Subhumans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spoonie Gee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Henry Cow,
The Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scan 7,
Roy Ayers,
Iggy Pop,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
Franke,
The Blackbyrds,
Bill Near,
Joe Smooth,
Lower 48,
OOIOO,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rakim,
Japan,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.