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 Taiwan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Bluetip to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Porter Ricks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Duran Duran,
The Real Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Searchers,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
The Gun Club,
The Birthday Party,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Pantytec,
the Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Suicide,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultravox,
Minor Threat,
Cluster,
Archie Shepp,
Japan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zero Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Toni Rubio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-102,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Star Department,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
Peter and Kerry,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
A Certain Ratio,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.