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 Guinea and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
The Searchers,
Bauhaus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cluster,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Panda Bear,
The Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
Darondo,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Prince Buster,
Pulsallama,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Deakin,
Black Flag,
Rapeman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fela Kuti,
Davy DMX,
The Young Rascals,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Guru Guru,
Dennis Brown,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
New Order,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.