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 Seychelles and from London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Todd Rundgren to the rap 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
Wire,
Angry Samoans,
Mark Hollis,
Stiv Bators,
Surgeon,
Theoretical Girls,
Eurythmics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Public Enemy,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
Accadde A,
Malaria!,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Junior Murvin,
Dark Day,
L. Decosne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Sherman,
MC5,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cramps,
the Association,
Drexciya,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moody Blues,
The Raincoats,
Zapp,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pylon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Al Stewart,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Das Ding,
Pantytec,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
Yaz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Saccharine Trust,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
Quando Quango,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.