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 Burkina and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Lyres,
Kayak,
The Young Rascals,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Charles Mingus,
Reagan Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Guru Guru,
Monolake,
David Axelrod,
The Smiths,
Altered Images,
The Fall,
Pole,
Camouflage,
The Standells,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Au Pairs,
Oblivians,
Minutemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Mr. Review,
Kurtis Blow,
EPMD,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
Pantytec,
Rekid,
Skarface,
The Pop Group,
The Mojo Men,
The Angels of Light,
OOIOO,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
Rosa Yemen,
the Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Moby Grape,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.