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 Austria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Warsaw to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bob Dylan,
B.T. Express,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Dolphy,
kango's stein massive,
The Last Poets,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tres Demented,
Black Flag,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minutemen,
UT,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DNA,
The Fuzztones,
ABBA,
Saccharine Trust,
Parry Music,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
One Last Wish,
Nico,
Eric Copeland,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultra Naté,
The Techniques,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joyce Sims,
Prince Buster,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
The Motions,
Harry Pussy,
Wings,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monochrome Set,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Order,
Brand Nubian,
Clear Light,
Guru Guru,
Funkadelic,
Hoover,
Ludus,
Sugar Minott,
The Mojo Men,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
Freddie Wadling,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pop Group,
Bill Near,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang On A Can,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.