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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the grunge 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rites of Spring,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
Darondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
One Last Wish,
Dead Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gong,
Henry Cow,
Sex Pistols,
The Walker Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Jawbox,
Junior Murvin,
The Grass Roots,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
Skaos,
Robert Hood,
Yusef Lateef,
Agitation Free,
The New Christs,
Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fluxion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pulsallama,
E-Dancer,
Ronan,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
The Move,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Saints,
Barry Ungar,
The Cramps,
Todd Rundgren,
Harry Pussy,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Accadde A,
Moebius,
Mark Hollis,
Adolescents,
Suburban Knight,
Duran Duran,
Wolf Eyes,
Fatback Band,
The Fuzztones,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.