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 Eritrea and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Eric Copeland to the punk 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
New Order,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Gories,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
Cymande,
Moebius,
the Germs,
Pantaleimon,
Byron Stingily,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
Pet Shop Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Depeche Mode,
Peter & Gordon,
The Misunderstood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
kango's stein massive,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sound,
Aswad,
Boredoms,
Warsaw,
Bill Wells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scratch Acid,
Joe Finger,
Model 500,
Von Mondo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funkadelic,
L. Decosne,
Delta 5,
Los Fastidios,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Cal Tjader,
Davy DMX,
Leonard Cohen,
Kayak,
The Angels of Light,
PIL,
Theoretical Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minor Threat,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Unwound,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.