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 Morocco and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Lungfish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
Ten City,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
World's Most,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Intrusion,
Max Romeo,
Sight & Sound,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Sam Rivers,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
Heaven 17,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Almond,
Gang Green,
Andrew Hill,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nas,
The Modern Lovers,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
The Remains,
Thompson Twins,
The Associates,
Talk Talk,
The Leaves,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Swans,
Rapeman,
Moss Icon,
Carl Craig,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Vogues,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visage,
John Cale,
Wire,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
Scratch Acid,
X-Ray Spex,
The Evens,
Unwound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lakeside,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.