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 Nepal and from Tokyo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Faraquet,
CMW,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Groovy Waters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Surgeon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rod Modell,
These Immortal Souls,
Skriet,
Heaven 17,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultra Naté,
OOIOO,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Leaves,
Juan Atkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Sixth Finger,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lungfish,
Buzzcocks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Shoche,
Jawbox,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ten City,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
The Blackbyrds,
Marine Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.