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 Cameroon and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Bill Wells to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
Symarip,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
David Axelrod,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scratch Acid,
Blossom Toes,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
Mark Hollis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
Scott Walker,
Marc Almond,
Glenn Branca,
Anthony Braxton,
Anakelly,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
The Busters,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heaven 17,
Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Terry,
Chris Corsano,
Mission of Burma,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Rakim,
Yaz,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Dark Day,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
The Grass Roots,
Camouflage,
Sound Behaviour,
Grey Daturas,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.