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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Saints to the grunge 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Essential Logic,
Massinfluence,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mandrill,
The Raincoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
Make Up,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
The Gun Club,
Chris Corsano,
Ronnie Foster,
Ornette Coleman,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cramps,
Suburban Knight,
Subhumans,
Guru Guru,
Nirvana,
Excepter,
World's Most,
Delta 5,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Lee Hazlewood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.