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 Vanuatu and from Copenhagen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Minnie Riperton,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
the Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alton Ellis,
Nas,
Icehouse,
Tears for Fears,
In Retrospect,
X-Ray Spex,
Reagan Youth,
Quantec,
Black Flag,
The Standells,
The Fuzztones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sixth Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sugar Minott,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
Wings,
The Litter,
The Misunderstood,
Fat Boys,
Marc Almond,
Nick Fraelich,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Sandy B,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Excepter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Supertramp,
Rites of Spring,
The Selecter,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie,
The New Christs,
the Human League,
Michelle Simonal,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Delta 5,
Magma,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radio Birdman,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.