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 St Lucia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Barracudas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Albert Ayler,
Banda Bassotti,
Rekid,
Camouflage,
New York Dolls,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
John Holt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
Unrelated Segments,
Intrusion,
The Durutti Column,
Monks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Magazine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Outsiders,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flipper,
Pantytec,
Scientists,
Crooked Eye,
Sex Pistols,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ituana,
John Lydon,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
Tommy Roe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Quantec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brothers Johnson,
Crime,
Yusef Lateef,
Anthony Braxton,
Nas,
the Germs,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül II,
Neu!,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Gong,
Morten Harket,
Sister Nancy,
Jacques Brel,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Residents,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantaleimon,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.