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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Aural Exciters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Toasters,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
Mark Hollis,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed,
Saccharine Trust,
Marvin Gaye,
FM Einheit,
Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Lou Christie,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Scientists,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pylon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Index,
Erykah Badu,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia,
Bang On A Can,
Deadbeat,
Basic Channel,
Grey Daturas,
The Smoke,
The Trojans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stetsasonic,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Tim Buckley,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Invisible,
Juan Atkins,
Barry Ungar,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Von Mondo,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.