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 Niger and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Donald Byrd to the disco 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Bootsy Collins,
Niagra,
Black Moon,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
Pierre Henry,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Lower 48,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Magma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Toni Rubio,
Television,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yellowson,
Harmonia,
The Toasters,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Sneak,
The Golliwogs,
Ultravox,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Human League,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bluetip,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gladiators,
Nirvana,
Hot Snakes,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
Swans,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Eric Dolphy,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.