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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Residents to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Bluetip,
The Happenings,
Alison Limerick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jandek,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bush Tetras,
Roxy Music,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
Slave,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang On A Can,
Funkadelic,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Monks,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
Tim Buckley,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magazine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slits,
Cal Tjader,
New Order,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
This Heat,
Neil Young,
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Malaria!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
The Beau Brummels,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kaleidoscope,
Groovy Waters,
Lindisfarne,
Mission of Burma,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.