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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Juan Atkins to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Radiohead,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Motorama,
Spoonie Gee,
Lindisfarne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Neon Judgement,
Kas Product,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
the Bar-Kays,
Terry Callier,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
Tears for Fears,
UT,
Archie Shepp,
Schoolly D,
Rekid,
Nirvana,
John Foxx,
The Leaves,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Womack,
Morten Harket,
Man Eating Sloth,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Green,
Magma,
R.M.O.,
Derrick Morgan,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kurtis Blow,
The Golliwogs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angry Samoans,
The Stooges,
John Coltrane,
Scientists,
Public Enemy,
Japan,
Soulsonic Force,
John Holt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Birthday Party,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.