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 Russia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 Joe Finger to the rock 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The United States of America,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
Jawbox,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Görl,
Whodini,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Evens,
Ultra Naté,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
Henry Cow,
Intrusion,
The Grass Roots,
Make Up,
K-Klass,
The Busters,
The Smiths,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Cale,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Blancmange,
Babytalk,
Amon Düül,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Outsiders,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
Ultravox,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Moebius,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ohio Players,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Cymande,
Skarface,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.