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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Gong,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Dead C,
Lyres,
Quadrant,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Brick,
Echospace,
Lucky Dragons,
Aswad,
Popol Vuh,
New Age Steppers,
Mission of Burma,
Brass Construction,
Blossom Toes,
Hot Snakes,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Mars,
The Walker Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Audionom,
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
Moby Grape,
Roxette,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Sixth Finger,
Nirvana,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Tomorrow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Clarke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faust,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Velvet Underground,
Kurtis Blow,
Marmalade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Cal Tjader,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Shoche,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.