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 Guinea and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Golliwogs to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Maurizio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
China Crisis,
Ronnie Foster,
Erasure,
The Names,
Hashim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marvin Gaye,
OOIOO,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
The Smoke,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
The Black Dice,
Gang Green,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Tim Buckley,
Don Cherry,
One Last Wish,
The Sound,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Bad Manners,
In Retrospect,
Blossom Toes,
Sam Rivers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon,
Jandek,
Scrapy,
Bang On A Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Maleditus Sound,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
The Modern Lovers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Residents,
Bootsy Collins,
The Vogues,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.