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 Tajikistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scientists to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
Marc Almond,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cymande,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Visage,
Sun City Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Susan Cadogan,
Donald Byrd,
Malaria!,
The Evens,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dave Gahan,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Roger Hodgson,
Thompson Twins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Deadbeat,
Arab on Radar,
Newcleus,
Brick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
John Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Kinks,
The Cure,
Todd Rundgren,
Skaos,
Television Personalities,
The Motions,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.