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 Azerbaijan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barrington Levy,
Whodini,
Lightning Bolt,
The Associates,
Fad Gadget,
Glenn Branca,
Kenny Larkin,
Deepchord,
Rosa Yemen,
Eddi Front,
Schoolly D,
The Slackers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vladislav Delay,
James White and The Blacks,
Moby Grape,
The Monochrome Set,
Suicide,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Maurizio,
Q65,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sister Nancy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
E-Dancer,
Gang Green,
Lindisfarne,
Mark Hollis,
These Immortal Souls,
Cecil Taylor,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Eli Mardock,
One Last Wish,
Jacques Brel,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Chris & Cosey,
Television Personalities,
Mars,
Bobby Womack,
Piero Umiliani,
Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Electric Prunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.