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 Armenia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Hashim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
cv313,
Spandau Ballet,
Surgeon,
Visage,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Hill,
MDC,
DNA,
Alton Ellis,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Womack,
The Grass Roots,
Barrington Levy,
Funkadelic,
Mark Hollis,
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
The Knickerbockers,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Archie Shepp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Davy DMX,
Rotary Connection,
The Selecter,
Yellowson,
ABBA,
Crime,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
Outsiders,
Monks,
Oblivians,
Idris Muhammad,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
The Blues Magoos,
Joy Division,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.