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 Slovakia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bang On A Can to the funk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
John Coltrane,
Ronan,
Tears for Fears,
Bang On A Can,
Depeche Mode,
Crooked Eye,
Kaleidoscope,
Traffic Nightmare,
June of 44,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joensuu 1685,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jandek,
Eddi Front,
DJ Sneak,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Don Cherry,
Barbara Tucker,
10cc,
Babytalk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Excepter,
Vladislav Delay,
Byron Stingily,
Sex Pistols,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
Roger Hodgson,
Crime,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
The Toasters,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Bob Dylan,
Swell Maps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Görl,
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Iggy Pop,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hasil Adkins,
Icehouse,
The Fall,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Talk Talk,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.