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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
the Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
kango's stein massive,
The Doors,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Happenings,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
The Young Rascals,
Al Stewart,
Monolake,
Nick Fraelich,
Nirvana,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Todd Rundgren,
Shuggie Otis,
Goldenarms,
Lakeside,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
The Electric Prunes,
Nas,
Symarip,
Sarah Menescal,
Donald Byrd,
Cybotron,
Neu!,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
Dave Gahan,
Quantec,
Little Man,
Eurythmics,
Banda Bassotti,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
The Neon Judgement,
This Heat,
Neil Young,
Graham Central Station,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mandrill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monks,
Black Pus,
10cc,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.