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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Mark Hollis to the grime 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
The Raincoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alice Coltrane,
Lee Hazlewood,
Subhumans,
Eddi Front,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
Harmonia,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vladislav Delay,
Easy Going,
Marvin Gaye,
MC5,
Vainqueur,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Agent Orange,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cowsills,
Hasil Adkins,
The United States of America,
Marine Girls,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
Goldenarms,
Schoolly D,
Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
Lower 48,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.