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 Zimbabwe and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 The Monochrome Set to the electroclash 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs,
Smog,
Tropical Tobacco,
Das Ding,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cybotron,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
X-101,
the Slits,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Leonard Cohen,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Porter Ricks,
The Birthday Party,
Boredoms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arcadia,
Q and Not U,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Wings,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Invisible,
The Gories,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Japan,
The Kinks,
Iggy Pop,
Dave Gahan,
China Crisis,
Amon Düül II,
Gabor Szabo,
Urselle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bob Dylan,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.