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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Agent Orange to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Barrington Levy,
Henry Cow,
Kas Product,
Alphaville,
The Angels of Light,
Country Teasers,
The United States of America,
Prince Buster,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
Rites of Spring,
Ultravox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
Au Pairs,
Johnny Clarke,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Black Flag,
The Music Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Tomorrow,
Qualms,
The Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
The Velvet Underground,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Todd Terry,
Ice-T,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Country Joe & The Fish,
H. Thieme,
Bob Dylan,
Khruangbin,
U.S. Maple,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Guru Guru,
Interpol,
The Gun Club,
Cameo,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fall,
The Golliwogs,
Radiohead,
Dawn Penn,
Pagans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.