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 Mauritania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mummies to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Howard Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pulsallama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Black Sheep,
MC5,
The Blues Magoos,
Hardrive,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
a-ha,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Pretty Things,
The Barracudas,
Gichy Dan,
Quadrant,
Model 500,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Flag,
Tommy Roe,
Technova,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crime,
The Cure,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
The Music Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
The Neon Judgement,
Delta 5,
Symarip,
Eden Ahbez,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül II,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Holt,
Radio Birdman,
MDC,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.