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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rod Modell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faust,
Fear,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
The United States of America,
Scan 7,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tom Boy,
Joe Smooth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Franke,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Juan Atkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Seeds,
Alphaville,
Rod Modell,
MDC,
the Swans,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
U.S. Maple,
The Sonics,
Oneida,
Fela Kuti,
Warsaw,
Yellowson,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
Maurizio,
Donny Hathaway,
The Birthday Party,
The New Christs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cheater Slicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slave,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Sound Behaviour,
Michelle Simonal,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
Essential Logic,
The Evens,
The Grass Roots,
Sunsets and Hearts,
World's Most,
Alison Limerick,
Zero Boys,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.