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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the grunge 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
This Heat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Rod Modell,
kango's stein massive,
Gang Green,
The Associates,
The Slackers,
Jerry's Kids,
Sister Nancy,
LL Cool J,
The Barracudas,
Patti Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Fluxion,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quantec,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
the Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Residents,
Joe Smooth,
The Star Department,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxy Music,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran,
Radiohead,
The Fall,
Smog,
Henry Cow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
Magma,
Eddi Front,
Cameo,
Warsaw,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.