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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Schoolly D to the rock 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
The Stooges,
The Music Machine,
Charles Mingus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Motions,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dave Gahan,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
The Electric Prunes,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hardrive,
The Young Rascals,
Arthur Verocai,
Gong,
Clear Light,
Josef K,
Gabor Szabo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
David Bowie,
The Mummies,
DNA,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Section 25,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
Visage,
Pierre Henry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moss Icon,
Amazonics,
Babytalk,
the Germs,
Bauhaus,
The Names,
Jandek,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Talk Talk,
Sugar Minott,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.