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 Armenia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
Liliput,
New Order,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Pus,
Tubeway Army,
The Mojo Men,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lalann,
Brand Nubian,
Anthony Braxton,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxette,
Porter Ricks,
Wally Richardson,
Deepchord,
Eden Ahbez,
Girls At Our Best!,
Duran Duran,
The Birthday Party,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moby Grape,
Sällskapet,
Moss Icon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
Fat Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Nas,
Piero Umiliani,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Icehouse,
John Holt,
Slave,
Lindisfarne,
Neu!,
Derrick Morgan,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Marine Girls,
Qualms,
Tim Buckley,
Masters at Work,
Quadrant,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.