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 Romania and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 The Velvet Underground to the grunge 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Seeds,
Flipper,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hoover,
The Neon Judgement,
Angry Samoans,
Eve St. Jones,
The Move,
Drexciya,
Minutemen,
The Dead C,
Mission of Burma,
Black Moon,
Janne Schatter,
Parry Music,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
KRS-One,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
The Last Poets,
Mary Jane Girls,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
The J.B.'s,
Black Flag,
Lindisfarne,
Arcadia,
Neil Young,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Subhumans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suicide,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dawn Penn,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sound,
Surgeon,
The Residents,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
Albert Ayler,
Man Parrish,
Intrusion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
The Toasters,
Cameo,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.