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 Oman and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
T. Rex,
DNA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Knickerbockers,
PIL,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tears for Fears,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Gang of Four,
The United States of America,
Hot Snakes,
Roxy Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dead C,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Ten City,
Yaz,
John Foxx,
Roger Hodgson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Scrapy,
Black Pus,
DJ Style,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Michelle Simonal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
David McCallum,
Man Parrish,
John Lydon,
Youth Brigade,
Barbara Tucker,
Mandrill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mad Mike,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dave Gahan,
Darondo,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.