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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Skarface to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The United States of America,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Motions,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alison Limerick,
Zapp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
The Selecter,
Goldenarms,
John Foxx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Visage,
The Grass Roots,
Livin' Joy,
The Pop Group,
The Cosmic Jokers,
CMW,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
U.S. Maple,
Swans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Fear,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
The Moleskins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donald Byrd,
Anakelly,
Max Romeo,
Inner City,
the Germs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Litter,
Minnie Riperton,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
Magma,
Tommy Roe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
Bobby Sherman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brass Construction,
Bronski Beat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.