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 South Africa and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Saints,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
F. McDonald,
Cymande,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
Index,
Sam Rivers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
Whodini,
Sonic Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispian St. Peters,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grey Daturas,
Joe Smooth,
Minny Pops,
FM Einheit,
Pulsallama,
Dual Sessions,
Marmalade,
The Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David McCallum,
Joey Negro,
Model 500,
Scion,
The Fall,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Sonny Sharrock,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
Basic Channel,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
Smog,
Liliput,
Organ,
Aswad,
Jeff Lynne,
Janne Schatter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacob Miller,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.