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 Suriname and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cramps to the electroclash 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Fugazi,
Alton Ellis,
Ultra Naté,
Magazine,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
UT,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
Brass Construction,
Funky Four + One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Laurel Aitken,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacob Miller,
The Slackers,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Bad Manners,
Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
The Offenders,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
Howard Jones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Wyatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mission of Burma,
Kurtis Blow,
Ossler,
Mr. Review,
Sugar Minott,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Au Pairs,
The Litter,
Japan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wings,
Interpol,
The Knickerbockers,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
The Vogues,
Easy Going,
Graham Central Station,
Cheater Slicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vainqueur,
The Trojans,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.