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 Netherlands and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
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 spring reverb 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 Grass Roots to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Procol Harum,
Amazonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bizarre Inc.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Sheep,
Peter and Kerry,
Matthew Bourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arcadia,
Godley & Creme,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hardrive,
Con Funk Shun,
Technova,
Pulsallama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Durutti Column,
X-Ray Spex,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
Lyres,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cure,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
AZ,
New Order,
Agitation Free,
Country Teasers,
Barbara Tucker,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Carl Craig,
The New Christs,
The Stooges,
Skarface,
The Cowsills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.