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 Germany and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mark Hollis to the crunk 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Saints,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Teasers,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Techniques,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stereo Dub,
Surgeon,
Au Pairs,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
L. Decosne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tommy Roe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Index,
Alton Ellis,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
LL Cool J,
The Beau Brummels,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Massinfluence,
Moebius,
The Birthday Party,
Q and Not U,
Hoover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Newcleus,
X-101,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vainqueur,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mandrill,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.