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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DJ Sneak to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
The Gun Club,
The Saints,
Marmalade,
Cymande,
Section 25,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Order,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unrelated Segments,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Monolake,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Birthday Party,
The Pretty Things,
Sugar Minott,
Althea and Donna,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeff Mills,
Wolf Eyes,
The Red Krayola,
Skriet,
Iggy Pop,
Lucky Dragons,
Silicon Teens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Pulsallama,
F. McDonald,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Invisible,
The Durutti Column,
Ludus,
The Leaves,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Clarke,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flipper,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.