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 Poland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Faraquet to the jazz 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bronski Beat,
Altered Images,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
the Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
The Red Krayola,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Delta 5,
Das Ding,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fugazi,
48th St. Collective,
Livin' Joy,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
Oblivians,
Rekid,
June of 44,
Gabor Szabo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vladislav Delay,
Roxy Music,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
Rapeman,
Janne Schatter,
Adolescents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Goldenarms,
L. Decosne,
Ultra Naté,
The Beau Brummels,
The New Christs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ronan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Tom Boy,
Darondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
Von Mondo,
Royal Trux,
The Martian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Negative Approach,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
KRS-One,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joyce Sims,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.