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 Tonga and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Tom Boy,
June Days,
L. Decosne,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
Masters at Work,
Organ,
Visage,
the Normal,
R.M.O.,
Joensuu 1685,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
Drexciya,
Porter Ricks,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
Morten Harket,
These Immortal Souls,
Essential Logic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The American Breed,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
Marc Almond,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
Eric Dolphy,
The Birthday Party,
Slave,
The Red Krayola,
Deadbeat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
ABC,
The Raincoats,
Duran Duran,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kayak,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neil Young,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Donald Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
The Invisible,
The Cure,
The Cowsills,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.