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 Grenada and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Associates to the jazz 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
The New Christs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Finger,
Ice-T,
Howard Jones,
the Swans,
The Techniques,
Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
Deadbeat,
Shoche,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mad Mike,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
Sun City Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantytec,
Archie Shepp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Pulsallama,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
Unwound,
John Lydon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Sex Pistols,
Accadde A,
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
Angry Samoans,
Nas,
Ultravox,
Spoonie Gee,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
Basic Channel,
Young Marble Giants,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.