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 El Salvador and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Toasters to the rock 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Prince Buster,
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeff Lynne,
Rosa Yemen,
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
Lakeside,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Absolute Body Control,
Smog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Kinks,
H. Thieme,
The Doors,
The Angels of Light,
Rod Modell,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Near,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
The Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
The J.B.'s,
Ludus,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
the Soft Cell,
Aaron Thompson,
The American Breed,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amon Düül,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
Sixth Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.