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 Peru 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Last Poets to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Interpol,
Bluetip,
David Bowie,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Youth Brigade,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Accadde A,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Quadrant,
Delta 5,
Khruangbin,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Organ,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
UT,
Japan,
cv313,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Sherman,
LL Cool J,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
Blancmange,
Kayak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rod Modell,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Toni Rubio,
Royal Trux,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
Severed Heads,
Erykah Badu,
Sällskapet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultravox,
Bronski Beat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nas,
Sexual Harrassment,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.