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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
The Blues Magoos,
Danielle Patucci,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
the Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Normal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy Collins,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sex Pistols,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Television Personalities,
Babytalk,
The Martian,
Wings,
The Fuzztones,
Fear,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy,
The Fall,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DNA,
The Dirtbombs,
Harry Pussy,
Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Jandek,
Darondo,
The Slackers,
Guru Guru,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Unwound,
Excepter,
China Crisis,
June Days,
Minnie Riperton,
Kenny Larkin,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Joe Smooth,
The Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.