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 Ivory Coast and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Saints to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck 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 disco 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 a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
The Blackbyrds,
Albert Ayler,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Litter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
June Days,
The Black Dice,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Dual Sessions,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
Scion,
Bootsy Collins,
Aswad,
Kas Product,
Tres Demented,
Sound Behaviour,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skriet,
Faraquet,
Crime,
Patti Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fela Kuti,
Franke,
The Music Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat,
X-101,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chrome,
Anakelly,
Stiv Bators,
Minnie Riperton,
Josef K,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roxy Music,
The Cramps,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABC,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fuzztones,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.