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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Stiv Bators to the rap 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Black Sheep,
Country Teasers,
Mission of Burma,
Unwound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Monks,
Davy DMX,
a-ha,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
PIL,
Index,
The Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Terry Callier,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Bourne,
Delta 5,
One Last Wish,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Second Layer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gichy Dan,
Deepchord,
Jeff Mills,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bauhaus,
OOIOO,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magazine,
Spoonie Gee,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
Erasure,
Liliput,
Maleditus Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
CMW,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
Eurythmics,
John Foxx,
Sex Pistols,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy Collins,
Television Personalities,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mandrill,
D'Angelo,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.