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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vogues to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Jeff Lynne,
The Toasters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
The Move,
The Fuzztones,
Suburban Knight,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
New Order,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
Scott Walker,
Pierre Henry,
Surgeon,
Faust,
Sandy B,
The Sound,
Fugazi,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
Lucky Dragons,
Bluetip,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quantec,
Lindisfarne,
The Litter,
Qualms,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Parry Music,
The Motions,
Accadde A,
Bang On A Can,
PIL,
the Fania All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Desert Stars,
Zapp,
Skaos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.