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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Motorama to the techno 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Barry Ungar,
The Slits,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
John Foxx,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
a-ha,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Sherman,
Model 500,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Normal,
Cameo,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
Ice-T,
Whodini,
Slave,
Lakeside,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
Scientists,
Morten Harket,
The Five Americans,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
The J.B.'s,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
Theoretical Girls,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
DJ Style,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
The American Breed,
The Walker Brothers,
Can,
Robert Görl,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cybotron,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Ronnie Foster,
Aural Exciters,
Interpol,
The Dead C,
Flipper,
Babytalk,
DJ Sneak,
The Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Alice Coltrane,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.