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 Czech Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Electric Prunes 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
JFA,
The Mummies,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter and Kerry,
Ohio Players,
The Searchers,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Sandy B,
Zero Boys,
The Gap Band,
This Heat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harmonia,
Surgeon,
Urselle,
Infiniti,
Pere Ubu,
Symarip,
The Moleskins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pulsallama,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Quadrant,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris Corsano,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Basic Channel,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Soft Cell,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Sheep,
The Motions,
Gong,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Skatalites,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.