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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispy Ambulance,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tom Boy,
Guru Guru,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Green,
James White and The Blacks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Slackers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Mummies,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Ten City,
John Foxx,
Jawbox,
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
the Sonics,
The Gap Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Angry Samoans,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon,
Janne Schatter,
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
OOIOO,
The Star Department,
E-Dancer,
The New Christs,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
One Last Wish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rapeman,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.