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 Solomon 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe 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 Al Stewart to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra,
Porter Ricks,
Section 25,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Brand Nubian,
Outsiders,
The Saints,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dirtbombs,
Reuben Wilson,
Cheater Slicks,
Hashim,
The Gun Club,
Davy DMX,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mantronix,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fluxion,
Los Fastidios,
Arthur Verocai,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Sheep,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Moebius,
Crispian St. Peters,
Graham Central Station,
Sonny Sharrock,
Matthew Bourne,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bauhaus,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scrapy,
Harry Pussy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.