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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Television Personalities to the rock 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
Piero Umiliani,
Flipper,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Normal,
Roxette,
The Birthday Party,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Little Man,
Niagra,
The Busters,
Liliput,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage,
The Tremeloes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bad Manners,
Unwound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suburban Knight,
The Gap Band,
Stereo Dub,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
MC5,
Metal Thangz,
Rosa Yemen,
T.S.O.L.,
The Names,
The Fuzztones,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Sheep,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Urselle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scientists,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Yaz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun City Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Johnny Clarke,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.