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 Belize and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Residents to the funk 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Sparks,
Fugazi,
Lou Christie,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
This Heat,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Last Poets,
Accadde A,
Zero Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yaz,
Gabor Szabo,
Livin' Joy,
Roxette,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Easy Going,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Arcadia,
Nirvana,
Grey Daturas,
David Axelrod,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Velvet Underground,
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Oblivians,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grauzone,
DNA,
Smog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thompson Twins,
Stiv Bators,
The Human League,
Camouflage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kas Product,
Rotary Connection,
MDC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aswad,
Scion,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.