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 Eritrea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move,
Whodini,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blake Baxter,
Scan 7,
Dual Sessions,
Rites of Spring,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skriet,
Masters at Work,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Loose Ends,
Swell Maps,
Marine Girls,
Agitation Free,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Names,
The Busters,
The Fortunes,
D'Angelo,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-102,
the Association,
The Walker Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hardrive,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
La Düsseldorf,
B.T. Express,
The Shadows of Knight,
Silicon Teens,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
The Birthday Party,
Smog,
Quadrant,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
June Days,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Model 500,
Sun Ra,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Yazoo,
Lindisfarne,
The Dirtbombs,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.