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 United Kingdom and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Howard Jones to the crunk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Gladiators,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
Tres Demented,
the Bar-Kays,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Drexciya,
The Smoke,
Liliput,
Quando Quango,
Delta 5,
Sparks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Axelrod,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dirtbombs,
the Sonics,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Deakin,
Agent Orange,
Carl Craig,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dead Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Black Pus,
Ornette Coleman,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gories,
Lower 48,
New York Dolls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sister Nancy,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Brass Construction,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pretty Things,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Los Fastidios,
The Neon Judgement,
Cluster,
Quadrant,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.