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 Jamaica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the electroclash 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Don Cherry,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
Buzzcocks,
The Monks,
Agitation Free,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shoche,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
MC5,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
AZ,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
kango's stein massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sister Nancy,
Wally Richardson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
L. Decosne,
Faraquet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pere Ubu,
Tim Buckley,
Negative Approach,
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mr. Review,
The Move,
Minny Pops,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siglo XX,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Black Flag,
The Moleskins,
Derrick Morgan,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.