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 Costa Rica and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rap 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Byron Stingily,
Eric Dolphy,
cv313,
Howard Jones,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra,
The Index,
Maleditus Sound,
Cluster,
Joyce Sims,
Circle Jerks,
Glenn Branca,
Buzzcocks,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
Lower 48,
Goldenarms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pole,
KRS-One,
The Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amon Düül II,
Ultimate Spinach,
David McCallum,
Neu!,
Bill Wells,
The Moleskins,
Suburban Knight,
Das Ding,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drexciya,
Swans,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slave,
The Remains,
MDC,
a-ha,
Grauzone,
In Retrospect,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.