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 Palau and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Cluster to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerri Chandler,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Desert Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moody Blues,
Sister Nancy,
Aswad,
The Standells,
Sight & Sound,
Lungfish,
The Smoke,
New Order,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
Peter & Gordon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Drexciya,
Sugar Minott,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Wyatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Soft Cell,
Average White Band,
Duran Duran,
Urselle,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
The Durutti Column,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Audionom,
This Heat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Inner City,
Shoche,
Magma,
Barclay James Harvest,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gun Club,
Subhumans,
The Pretty Things,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
Metal Thangz,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.