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 Namibia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the dance 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Index,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Flipper,
Rosa Yemen,
Mission of Burma,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Half Japanese,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
The Barracudas,
The Vogues,
Television,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Morten Harket,
Donny Hathaway,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
Laurel Aitken,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Parry Music,
Sonic Youth,
The Gun Club,
The Smiths,
Quando Quango,
Ohio Players,
New Order,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Organ,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doors,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Heaven 17,
Deakin,
Can,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Qualms,
The Busters,
Minutemen,
James White and The Blacks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.