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 Zimbabwe and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Birthday Party to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
Susan Cadogan,
One Last Wish,
Easy Going,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Christie,
Yellowson,
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
Ponytail,
Simply Red,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Country Teasers,
Brass Construction,
The Fall,
Main Source,
Oneida,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
Rites of Spring,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
Mandrill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
Moebius,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultravox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gap Band,
The Offenders,
The Count Five,
Unrelated Segments,
The Durutti Column,
Tomorrow,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Newcleus,
Crash Course in Science,
Arcadia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Graham Central Station,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.