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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Fad Gadget,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Barracudas,
Blake Baxter,
Maleditus Sound,
FM Einheit,
The Count Five,
Malaria!,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
The Slits,
Intrusion,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
Cameo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
The Music Machine,
Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Schoolly D,
Carl Craig,
The Misunderstood,
Flash Fearless,
Trumans Water,
Jeff Mills,
Kayak,
Joyce Sims,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
The Walker Brothers,
Rotary Connection,
Steve Hackett,
The Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reagan Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Chrome,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
Joe Finger,
Harmonia,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantytec,
Laurel Aitken,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Althea and Donna,
Arcadia,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Wells,
Qualms,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Judy Mowatt,
Nico,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Soul II Soul,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.