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 Iran and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Sparks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Con Funk Shun,
Archie Shepp,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
T.S.O.L.,
Reuben Wilson,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Finger,
UT,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Byron Stingily,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doors,
Loose Ends,
Unrelated Segments,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
U.S. Maple,
Hoover,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris Corsano,
The Selecter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Real Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
the Germs,
Heaven 17,
Pylon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moby Grape,
Wings,
Juan Atkins,
EPMD,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Isaac Hayes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Kinks,
Television,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scrapy,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
The Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.