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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the techno 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Birthday Party,
The Motions,
Radiopuhelimet,
MDC,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Byron Stingily,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Deakin,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alison Limerick,
Amazonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-101,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Minutemen,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
Al Stewart,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
The Cure,
Groovy Waters,
Funkadelic,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Metal Thangz,
Sound Behaviour,
Absolute Body Control,
Quadrant,
Max Romeo,
The Angels of Light,
Whodini,
Inner City,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mummies,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.