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 Iceland 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crash Course in Science to the disco 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Leaves,
Swell Maps,
June of 44,
Anthony Braxton,
Soft Machine,
New York Dolls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wings,
Royal Trux,
The Modern Lovers,
the Slits,
Nas,
Faraquet,
Vainqueur,
Moebius,
La Düsseldorf,
The Selecter,
Marmalade,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sarah Menescal,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
Eric B and Rakim,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The J.B.'s,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Near,
Popol Vuh,
Circle Jerks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fugs,
Infiniti,
James White and The Blacks,
Alphaville,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hardrive,
The American Breed,
Hashim,
Idris Muhammad,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Human League,
AZ,
Kas Product,
Glenn Branca,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.