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 Dominican Republic and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nico to the techno 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Michelle Simonal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skaos,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ken Boothe,
X-102,
Morten Harket,
Unwound,
Interpol,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Fluxion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Real Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
K-Klass,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fortunes,
The United States of America,
Bronski Beat,
The J.B.'s,
The Gladiators,
Stetsasonic,
Royal Trux,
Silicon Teens,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Birthday Party,
Alice Coltrane,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Black Dice,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
Eurythmics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
The Young Rascals,
Maleditus Sound,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agent Orange,
Dave Gahan,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.