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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks 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?
Roxy Music,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
Metal Thangz,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Underground Resistance,
Godley & Creme,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Crime,
The Victims,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Style,
Bill Near,
China Crisis,
John Cale,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
David McCallum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Los Fastidios,
Popol Vuh,
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
John Foxx,
LL Cool J,
Donny Hathaway,
The Martian,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Harry Pussy,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bronski Beat,
The Index,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rapeman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siglo XX,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ponytail,
Blossom Toes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Adolescents,
Bobby Sherman,
ABBA,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.