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 Mozambique and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Q and Not U,
The Move,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
Minnie Riperton,
Oblivians,
F. McDonald,
B.T. Express,
Accadde A,
Make Up,
Whodini,
Soulsonic Force,
John Cale,
Radiohead,
The Black Dice,
Loose Ends,
Babytalk,
Neu!,
The Fall,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ohio Players,
John Foxx,
Bobby Womack,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Sneak,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brand Nubian,
Rosa Yemen,
Cluster,
Jeff Mills,
JFA,
Wally Richardson,
Negative Approach,
Public Enemy,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
The Evens,
Moebius,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MDC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cowsills,
Circle Jerks,
Youth Brigade,
Juan Atkins,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Scrapy,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.