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 Albania and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Litter to the punk 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Monolake,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Roxette,
The Durutti Column,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Magma,
Scrapy,
Circle Jerks,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Chrome,
The Blackbyrds,
Don Cherry,
Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Rufus Thomas,
Fear,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
One Last Wish,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army,
Flash Fearless,
Ultravox,
Jandek,
The Pretty Things,
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
MC5,
Mandrill,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
Susan Cadogan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minor Threat,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marine Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
The Searchers,
Negative Approach,
Bush Tetras,
Surgeon,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare,
Loose Ends,
The Trojans,
Peter and Kerry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Sugar Minott,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.