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 Korea South and from New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Bauhaus,
Kenny Larkin,
Goldenarms,
The Move,
D'Angelo,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Parry Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q65,
PIL,
Rhythm & Sound,
Interpol,
X-101,
Delta 5,
Charles Mingus,
The J.B.'s,
T.S.O.L.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
ABC,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
Pantaleimon,
Faraquet,
the Sonics,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Star Department,
Bad Manners,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Essential Logic,
Sällskapet,
The Sonics,
Infiniti,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
Von Mondo,
L. Decosne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Schoolly D,
the Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Oblivians,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.