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 Liberia and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Wings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
the Germs,
Circle Jerks,
John Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Charles Mingus,
Rapeman,
Robert Wyatt,
Laurel Aitken,
the Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
the Bar-Kays,
Von Mondo,
Monks,
Colin Newman,
Kool Moe Dee,
OOIOO,
B.T. Express,
T.S.O.L.,
Eurythmics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Patti Smith,
Unwound,
The Durutti Column,
In Retrospect,
Fad Gadget,
Desert Stars,
Bill Near,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lower 48,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lindisfarne,
Archie Shepp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mad Mike,
Radio Birdman,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT,
Stetsasonic,
Bang On A Can,
EPMD,
The Last Poets,
Jandek,
Lou Christie,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Pus,
Fluxion,
Young Marble Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Motorama,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.