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 St Lucia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Parrish,
Franke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siglo XX,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Swans,
Scrapy,
Howard Jones,
Negative Approach,
Gabor Szabo,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Bowie,
Tommy Roe,
The Pop Group,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantytec,
X-101,
The Leaves,
The Litter,
Simply Red,
Zero Boys,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
MC5,
Moebius,
Eddi Front,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Monolake,
Hashim,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Gichy Dan,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs,
The Blackbyrds,
PIL,
The Raincoats,
Dave Gahan,
Alphaville,
Boredoms,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Tremeloes,
Trumans Water,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.