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 India and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grime 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amazonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Leaves,
the Germs,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
Black Bananas,
The Litter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pylon,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
Grey Daturas,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Sonics,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Cymande,
John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
Young Marble Giants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nik Kershaw,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slackers,
Country Teasers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Babytalk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
The Durutti Column,
Essential Logic,
Sandy B,
Y Pants,
Nas,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
Ten City,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonic Youth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tomorrow,
Albert Ayler,
Au Pairs,
the Swans,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.