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 Sweden and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Rosa Yemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
X-Ray Spex,
Charles Mingus,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Wings,
Magazine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moleskins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
Dave Gahan,
Wally Richardson,
The Selecter,
The Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Human League,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Masters at Work,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
Nas,
Iggy Pop,
Blake Baxter,
Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Oblivians,
Lungfish,
Talk Talk,
Bronski Beat,
Danielle Patucci,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Green,
Carl Craig,
Second Layer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oneida,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
Dual Sessions,
Skaos,
Newcleus,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.