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 Slovenia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar 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 Ultravox to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Alphaville,
Guru Guru,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Certain Ratio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Pus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
the Association,
The Misunderstood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Whodini,
Scion,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Wasted Youth,
Mars,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Subhumans,
Skriet,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
Soulsonic Force,
Henry Cow,
the Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
Blancmange,
Camouflage,
Lindisfarne,
The Mummies,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Lungfish,
One Last Wish,
Underground Resistance,
John Holt,
Unwound,
Hoover,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
The Trojans,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
Moebius,
New Order,
Vladislav Delay,
Kas Product,
The Residents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.