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 Lithuania and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Mark Hollis to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and a sitar 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 guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rosa Yemen,
Toni Rubio,
Skarface,
Fatback Band,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
DJ Style,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick May,
X-101,
The Busters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yazoo,
Marvin Gaye,
Jawbox,
Soft Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Bush Tetras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lyres,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Hood,
Alphaville,
The Wake,
MDC,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Index,
Masters at Work,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
Scan 7,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.