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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rakim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Pus,
Janne Schatter,
Spandau Ballet,
The J.B.'s,
Piero Umiliani,
Bizarre Inc.,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Flag,
DJ Sneak,
Michelle Simonal,
Mandrill,
The Searchers,
Byron Stingily,
Livin' Joy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Depeche Mode,
John Cale,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül II,
Kaleidoscope,
Audionom,
Warren Ellis,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
Con Funk Shun,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Interpol,
The Selecter,
Johnny Clarke,
Grauzone,
Steve Hackett,
Heaven 17,
Gong,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smoke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pylon,
The Beau Brummels,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter and Kerry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cramps,
Rotary Connection,
Theoretical Girls,
UT,
Chris Corsano,
X-102,
Rapeman,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.