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 Costa Rica and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Leaves to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Nils Olav,
World's Most,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Ice-T,
Darondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric Copeland,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stetsasonic,
Yaz,
Joyce Sims,
Index,
Peter & Gordon,
The Doors,
Jacob Miller,
The Gladiators,
Angry Samoans,
Marvin Gaye,
Drexciya,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
Quadrant,
Flipper,
ABBA,
Dawn Penn,
Sonic Youth,
Babytalk,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
Lungfish,
Sällskapet,
Vladislav Delay,
X-Ray Spex,
Erykah Badu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joe Smooth,
Urselle,
The Red Krayola,
The Angels of Light,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
a-ha,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
B.T. Express,
Nik Kershaw,
The Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
Don Cherry,
The Selecter,
Make Up,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.