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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 June Days to the rap 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe 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?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
X-101,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Japan,
Talk Talk,
Aswad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Reed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Cale,
The Happenings,
Lyres,
The Cowsills,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fad Gadget,
Ornette Coleman,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scion,
Excepter,
The Smiths,
Bad Manners,
Pagans,
The Associates,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
The Count Five,
Lindisfarne,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Tommy Roe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
Darondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Spoonie Gee,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
Ice-T,
Glenn Branca,
The Misunderstood,
Groovy Waters,
Trumans Water,
Sugar Minott,
48th St. Collective,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
Aaron Thompson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.