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 Bangladesh and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Slits to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Section 25,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Bad Manners,
Judy Mowatt,
Delta 5,
Mission of Burma,
Marcia Griffiths,
Malaria!,
Japan,
Masters at Work,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
Mad Mike,
Pylon,
Maurizio,
Derrick Morgan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scientists,
Jandek,
The Selecter,
The Real Kids,
Can,
Index,
Agitation Free,
Chris Corsano,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover,
The Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Modern Lovers,
Tres Demented,
David Bowie,
X-Ray Spex,
Al Stewart,
Agent Orange,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
Marine Girls,
The Doors,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
Janne Schatter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
Bobby Womack,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Charles Mingus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Babytalk,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
Smog,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.