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 Sudan and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 Circle Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Von Mondo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
World's Most,
Gil Scott Heron,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Green,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
Jacques Brel,
John Holt,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Stooges,
Lucky Dragons,
Rekid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Angry Samoans,
Shuggie Otis,
Kenny Larkin,
Blake Baxter,
Underground Resistance,
The Gap Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Khruangbin,
The Smiths,
Mars,
The Grass Roots,
The Five Americans,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
Moby Grape,
Tres Demented,
The Saints,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Motorama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
a-ha,
Urselle,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
The Knickerbockers,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.