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 Papua New Guinea 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gun Club,
Judy Mowatt,
X-Ray Spex,
Agent Orange,
The Count Five,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Technova,
Japan,
Lou Reed,
Bad Manners,
T.S.O.L.,
Mark Hollis,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chrome,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Teasers,
Derrick May,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Remains,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roxy Music,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Ohio Players,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scratch Acid,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
Thompson Twins,
Pierre Henry,
Rekid,
Eli Mardock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sonic Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ken Boothe,
Hashim,
Grauzone,
UT,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.