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 Yemen and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Selecter to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Index,
Pantytec,
Minnie Riperton,
The Shadows of Knight,
H. Thieme,
Adolescents,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Grass Roots,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
Albert Ayler,
Sonic Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Ken Boothe,
The Misunderstood,
Popol Vuh,
Faust,
Ohio Players,
Spoonie Gee,
Fela Kuti,
Deakin,
The Offenders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Quadrant,
June of 44,
T. Rex,
Duran Duran,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
David McCallum,
Scientists,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxette,
Unwound,
Skriet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fear,
Can,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alison Limerick,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.