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 Tanzania and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 James White and The Blacks to the electroclash 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
The Dead C,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funkadelic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispian St. Peters,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Michelle Simonal,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
Ronan,
Niagra,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Main Source,
X-101,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scion,
James White and The Blacks,
The Misunderstood,
Fluxion,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd,
Quando Quango,
PIL,
Grauzone,
Mr. Review,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Au Pairs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Raincoats,
The Star Department,
Neu!,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
Wings,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.