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 Marshall Islands and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camberwell Now to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments,
Ponytail,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Kas Product,
Nirvana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
Scrapy,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
Henry Cow,
Kurtis Blow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Neon Judgement,
Hoover,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
These Immortal Souls,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
K-Klass,
Sex Pistols,
Arthur Verocai,
The Residents,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Sheep,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Kinks,
Aural Exciters,
Malaria!,
Bronski Beat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.