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 Nicaragua and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
Man Parrish,
Slave,
Roxette,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Icehouse,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Roger Hodgson,
Moebius,
Gang Green,
Mr. Review,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Doors,
Siglo XX,
Animal Collective,
The Dead C,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Starr,
David Bowie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
Jawbox,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
The Remains,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joyce Sims,
Yellowson,
The Invisible,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
a-ha,
Cluster,
David McCallum,
Absolute Body Control,
The Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
DNA,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.