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 St Lucia and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Severed Heads,
Simply Red,
Johnny Clarke,
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
Outsiders,
Hoover,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
The Knickerbockers,
Matthew Bourne,
Don Cherry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
Scientists,
Inner City,
Minny Pops,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Bar-Kays,
Maleditus Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
B.T. Express,
Wire,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
Eurythmics,
Max Romeo,
Slave,
Eric Copeland,
The Trojans,
The Neon Judgement,
DNA,
Q and Not U,
Adolescents,
Pierre Henry,
Lungfish,
Prince Buster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New Order,
U.S. Maple,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Foxx,
Erasure,
Metal Thangz,
Smog,
Peter and Kerry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.