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 Greece and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Connie Case,
Goldenarms,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
Roxette,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
the Association,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Wire,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
FM Einheit,
Rekid,
Kenny Larkin,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
Sällskapet,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
Michelle Simonal,
Judy Mowatt,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Zero Boys,
Toni Rubio,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Misunderstood,
Ultra Naté,
Rapeman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Nils Olav,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.