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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cosmic Jokers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lower 48,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aswad,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
June Days,
Charles Mingus,
Wasted Youth,
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
The Five Americans,
Marvin Gaye,
The New Christs,
T.S.O.L.,
Cheater Slicks,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
E-Dancer,
Motorama,
Arcadia,
World's Most,
Visage,
June of 44,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gladiators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gun Club,
Mantronix,
Jerry's Kids,
LL Cool J,
John Lydon,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Dennis Brown,
Todd Terry,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Bill Wells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echospace,
the Swans,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Sparks,
Q and Not U,
Rakim,
The Moleskins,
Adolescents,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Bootsy Collins,
Terry Callier,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.