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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
Basic Channel,
Mission of Burma,
The New Christs,
Ponytail,
Mary Jane Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moebius,
Hot Snakes,
Liliput,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Ornette Coleman,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gabor Szabo,
The Leaves,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Whodini,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
R.M.O.,
Con Funk Shun,
Fat Boys,
Black Pus,
Scott Walker,
Anakelly,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Underground Resistance,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Audionom,
Magma,
Nirvana,
Neil Young,
Black Sheep,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
Roxy Music,
the Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
Magazine,
Spandau Ballet,
Piero Umiliani,
Soft Cell,
Supertramp,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.