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 Barbados and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Unrelated Segments to the electroclash 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cramps,
Ultra Naté,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Searchers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
Royal Trux,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Piero Umiliani,
Circle Jerks,
Scan 7,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Eve St. Jones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Johnny Clarke,
Alton Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Slave,
Unwound,
the Association,
Yaz,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
L. Decosne,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
U.S. Maple,
Skaos,
The Gun Club,
Flash Fearless,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MDC,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suicide,
June Days,
Todd Terry,
Buzzcocks,
the Swans,
Quadrant,
The Gap Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.