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 Saudi Arabia 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
The Detroit Cobras,
Parry Music,
The Human League,
UT,
Faust,
Matthew Halsall,
Reuben Wilson,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Sun City Girls,
The Kinks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
Negative Approach,
Jandek,
Glambeats Corp.,
Henry Cow,
John Cale,
Erykah Badu,
World's Most,
Japan,
Gang Starr,
Procol Harum,
The Pretty Things,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Byron Stingily,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül II,
Jeru the Damaja,
Traffic Nightmare,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Smog,
One Last Wish,
Swans,
The Toasters,
Donald Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Modern Lovers,
Leonard Cohen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.