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 Iraq and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Durutti Column to the jazz 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
Pulsallama,
Deepchord,
Nick Fraelich,
Half Japanese,
Bill Wells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magma,
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arcadia,
The Count Five,
Unwound,
The New Christs,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mo-Dettes,
Bronski Beat,
The Blues Magoos,
Terry Callier,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
Fluxion,
The Blackbyrds,
Metal Thangz,
Bad Manners,
Fugazi,
The Cure,
Silicon Teens,
Nas,
Excepter,
Stiv Bators,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
Dual Sessions,
a-ha,
Boredoms,
Wolf Eyes,
Nils Olav,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun City Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits,
The Modern Lovers,
Make Up,
JFA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.