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 Saudi Arabia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hot Snakes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Nils Olav,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Almond,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ornette Coleman,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
The Fugs,
The Happenings,
Buzzcocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Simply Red,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Kurtis Blow,
The Tremeloes,
Ten City,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement,
Goldenarms,
Dark Day,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
Scion,
Kenny Larkin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wasted Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
Deepchord,
Youth Brigade,
Aswad,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
Can,
Terry Callier,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Steve Hackett,
KRS-One,
Gang Green,
the Germs,
The Barracudas,
Second Layer,
Brass Construction,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
Jacques Brel,
H. Thieme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
In Retrospect,
Jawbox,
Bobby Womack,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.