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 Tonga and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Monks to the crunk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Trumans Water,
The Misunderstood,
The Count Five,
Audionom,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed,
kango's stein massive,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Albert Ayler,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Idris Muhammad,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sisters of Mercy,
H. Thieme,
Supertramp,
Circle Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Visage,
the Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Fugazi,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Von Mondo,
The Martian,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cure,
Bill Wells,
The Slits,
The Wake,
Jerry's Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Dark Day,
Unwound,
Bauhaus,
JFA,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
Mr. Review,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Yaz,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.