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 Azerbaijan and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Victims to the dance 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Dual Sessions,
Cecil Taylor,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jerry's Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Hot Snakes,
Magma,
Mad Mike,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller,
Stiv Bators,
Niagra,
the Slits,
ABC,
Mars,
Intrusion,
Yazoo,
the Normal,
Moebius,
Los Fastidios,
Kerrie Biddell,
Max Romeo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun City Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
kango's stein massive,
Rapeman,
The Searchers,
Sällskapet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minny Pops,
Crooked Eye,
Masters at Work,
Sight & Sound,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Erykah Badu,
Fela Kuti,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swans,
Carl Craig,
Cluster,
Barrington Levy,
Hashim,
Roger Hodgson,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.