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 Ghana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Schoolly D to the disco 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unrelated Segments,
Vladislav Delay,
Wasted Youth,
Rekid,
The Skatalites,
Roxette,
Tommy Roe,
Rotary Connection,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Section 25,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Fraelich,
Judy Mowatt,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Avey Tare,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick May,
Ponytail,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Leonard Cohen,
Inner City,
Scratch Acid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Remains,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harry Pussy,
June Days,
Ludus,
The Blues Magoos,
Neu!,
Monks,
Jandek,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quadrant,
Nas,
U.S. Maple,
Babytalk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
Thompson Twins,
The J.B.'s,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swans,
Fugazi,
The Mummies,
Wings,
Cameo,
The Pretty Things,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.