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 East Timor and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cymande to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
a-ha,
Fatback Band,
Nils Olav,
The Birthday Party,
the Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Faust,
CMW,
Amon Düül,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Malaria!,
Hot Snakes,
Dead Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crime,
The Wake,
Danielle Patucci,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Depeche Mode,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roger Hodgson,
The Vogues,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Model 500,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Terry Callier,
Royal Trux,
Index,
the Human League,
T. Rex,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minor Threat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nirvana,
Wasted Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
AZ,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.