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 Kuwait and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Slackers,
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dead C,
New Age Steppers,
Barbara Tucker,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Quadrant,
Wings,
Magma,
Parry Music,
Ten City,
Eddi Front,
Saccharine Trust,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Y Pants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dave Gahan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Associates,
Circle Jerks,
Josef K,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
Eric Copeland,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Christie,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
Rotary Connection,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
The Fuzztones,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gladiators,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
The Gap Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Black Dice,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pagans,
Lakeside,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.