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 France and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Amon Düül II,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
Pantaleimon,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
Zapp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
UT,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers,
Los Fastidios,
LL Cool J,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bad Manners,
Boredoms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox,
Lakeside,
Mark Hollis,
Crooked Eye,
Nik Kershaw,
Iggy Pop,
Graham Central Station,
Bob Dylan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Associates,
Prince Buster,
Boogie Down Productions,
T. Rex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Theoretical Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Whodini,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Main Source,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
Flipper,
B.T. Express,
Black Moon,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Babytalk,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
Hoover,
Warren Ellis,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.