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 Nicaragua and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 The Martian to the electroclash 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Drexciya,
The Wake,
The Dead C,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Grass Roots,
Smog,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gun Club,
AZ,
Anthony Braxton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donny Hathaway,
Sparks,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
Don Cherry,
June Days,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Rites of Spring,
cv313,
This Heat,
The Residents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Monolake,
Kaleidoscope,
Lungfish,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Cybotron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Graham Central Station,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Searchers,
T.S.O.L.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deepchord,
Kerrie Biddell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
Swans,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.