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 Eritrea and from New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Christie to the rap 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Newcleus,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
The Music Machine,
Niagra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
Wire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Model 500,
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins,
Chrome,
Sandy B,
The Sonics,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
The Smiths,
Tim Buckley,
Sällskapet,
Eve St. Jones,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Thee Headcoats,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quantec,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Porter Ricks,
Q65,
OOIOO,
Section 25,
The Black Dice,
The Martian,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Bourne,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris Corsano,
The Gap Band,
The Stooges,
Dead Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.