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 Nepal and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities,
The Moody Blues,
Magazine,
Simply Red,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Japan,
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
The Toasters,
Derrick Morgan,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Sneak,
Von Mondo,
Essential Logic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Whodini,
Barrington Levy,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Sparks,
The Searchers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alice Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Osbourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Moon,
John Foxx,
The Move,
Fluxion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lalann,
Peter and Kerry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eurythmics,
The Cure,
Rekid,
Soul II Soul,
Dorothy Ashby,
Average White Band,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
Pantaleimon,
Kas Product,
Lucky Dragons,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
the Sonics,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.