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 Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the rap 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Groovy Waters,
Glenn Branca,
Joyce Sims,
Dark Day,
Youth Brigade,
Radio Birdman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Judy Mowatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ponytail,
The Residents,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sixth Finger,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Rundgren,
David Bowie,
Jeff Lynne,
Skaos,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deakin,
Japan,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
Saccharine Trust,
Mission of Burma,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Basic Channel,
Charles Mingus,
D'Angelo,
The Remains,
The Smoke,
Bronski Beat,
Albert Ayler,
The Martian,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hardrive,
The Tremeloes,
H. Thieme,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.