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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
Buzzcocks,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
David McCallum,
Judy Mowatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Saints,
Adolescents,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
Nik Kershaw,
DNA,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
Dead Boys,
U.S. Maple,
the Slits,
Monks,
Bronski Beat,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
The Fortunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
JFA,
Popol Vuh,
Intrusion,
UT,
The Moleskins,
Wings,
Ronnie Foster,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sister Nancy,
Slick Rick,
The Cowsills,
Unwound,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios,
Brick,
Sällskapet,
Godley & Creme,
Lightning Bolt,
Scrapy,
The Cramps,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.