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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trojans to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
PIL,
Rakim,
Faraquet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kurtis Blow,
Thee Headcoats,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dirtbombs,
Inner City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
Model 500,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flash Fearless,
Dead Boys,
Motorama,
Chris Corsano,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Au Pairs,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Sheep,
Television Personalities,
Index,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ohio Players,
Nirvana,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Hardrive,
Scan 7,
Connie Case,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
Blancmange,
Symarip,
The Real Kids,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
Cybotron,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rotary Connection,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.