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 Namibia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Minny Pops to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Tim Buckley,
The J.B.'s,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
The Toasters,
Blossom Toes,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
The Pretty Things,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Babytalk,
The Red Krayola,
Nik Kershaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Swell Maps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Starr,
Silicon Teens,
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Visage,
Michelle Simonal,
Parry Music,
Dead Boys,
Scott Walker,
Average White Band,
Nils Olav,
Half Japanese,
John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
Surgeon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
Roy Ayers,
the Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
Bobby Womack,
Steve Hackett,
Pylon,
Deakin,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.