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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Drive Like Jehu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
Toni Rubio,
Motorama,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Toasters,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Ultra Naté,
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
Roxy Music,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Sonic Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Five Americans,
U.S. Maple,
Sparks,
Malaria!,
The Litter,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
The Seeds,
Siglo XX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
Banda Bassotti,
Sugar Minott,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Mantronix,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Monolake,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
John Holt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Wire,
Bobby Womack,
Peter & Gordon,
Interpol,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.