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 Finland and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Whodini,
Godley & Creme,
Brand Nubian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blossom Toes,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moss Icon,
Essential Logic,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Jimmy McGriff,
KRS-One,
Rapeman,
The Fire Engines,
Cameo,
Juan Atkins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
PIL,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
The Fugs,
The Count Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
The Knickerbockers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Susan Cadogan,
Cecil Taylor,
Siglo XX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June Days,
Ohio Players,
Grandmaster Flash,
Patti Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wolf Eyes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masters at Work,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Don Cherry,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.