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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Stooges to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Urselle,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aaron Thompson,
Vladislav Delay,
Television,
The Monks,
Franke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Subhumans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalann,
Joe Smooth,
The Cowsills,
The Wake,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
Tubeway Army,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Joey Negro,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cramps,
Crash Course in Science,
Eve St. Jones,
One Last Wish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Negative Approach,
a-ha,
Cluster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ken Boothe,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Danielle Patucci,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quadrant,
Scientists,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Country Teasers,
Jawbox,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.