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 Brazil and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
UT,
Nirvana,
Grey Daturas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
Alison Limerick,
Harmonia,
Tres Demented,
Deakin,
The Invisible,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sarah Menescal,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker,
Moby Grape,
Boredoms,
Audionom,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
Barrington Levy,
Darondo,
Motorama,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
Rapeman,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eli Mardock,
Organ,
Japan,
Young Marble Giants,
Shoche,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Soul II Soul,
Suicide,
Pantytec,
Henry Cow,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Moebius,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Vogues,
Ten City,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
The Pretty Things,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.