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 Philippines and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Saints 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Stiv Bators,
Shoche,
Peter and Kerry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ituana,
Drexciya,
Kayak,
Grey Daturas,
The Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Hashim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arcadia,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erykah Badu,
Blake Baxter,
The Dead C,
Theoretical Girls,
The Human League,
Dual Sessions,
The Fortunes,
Oneida,
Black Flag,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gladiators,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
Archie Shepp,
Gregory Isaacs,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
Marmalade,
Echospace,
New Age Steppers,
48th St. Collective,
Josef K,
The Busters,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Steve Hackett,
The Invisible,
The Residents,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.