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 Thailand and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 David Bowie 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 Walker Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Archie Shepp,
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brothers Johnson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mission of Burma,
Ituana,
Chrome,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Real Kids,
The Fall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Fluxion,
Grey Daturas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Matthew Halsall,
Japan,
T. Rex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
Essential Logic,
Intrusion,
Spandau Ballet,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
Wasted Youth,
Roxy Music,
Oneida,
the Sonics,
KRS-One,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter & Gordon,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
Quadrant,
Clear Light,
Pulsallama,
LL Cool J,
Ralphi Rosario,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantytec,
Skriet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
UT,
Sound Behaviour,
Patti Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.