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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Victims to the punk 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
June Days,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stereo Dub,
DNA,
Roxy Music,
Sparks,
Hasil Adkins,
Marine Girls,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Coltrane,
Bronski Beat,
Ludus,
The Five Americans,
Con Funk Shun,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lindisfarne,
Echospace,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
Rod Modell,
John Lydon,
CMW,
Gang Gang Dance,
Silicon Teens,
Slave,
Joyce Sims,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
PIL,
Cameo,
Amazonics,
Nas,
Smog,
Shoche,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
June of 44,
Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Niagra,
Stetsasonic,
Public Enemy,
JFA,
kango's stein massive,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Excepter,
E-Dancer,
Tom Boy,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.