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 Macedonia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
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 linndrum 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
One Last Wish,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fall,
The Saints,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Sherman,
Scientists,
Severed Heads,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
Hasil Adkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Infiniti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Index,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Rapeman,
Barrington Levy,
Blancmange,
Faraquet,
Fluxion,
R.M.O.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Theoretical Girls,
ABC,
Joy Division,
Jerry's Kids,
Talk Talk,
Half Japanese,
The Remains,
Deakin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
The Busters,
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
The Star Department,
Magazine,
The Smiths,
The Toasters,
Soulsonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brick,
B.T. Express,
Peter & Gordon,
In Retrospect,
the Human League,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.