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 Sri Lanka and from Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sixth Finger to the dance 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Raincoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minnie Riperton,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
The Seeds,
Neil Young,
The Smoke,
Nik Kershaw,
OOIOO,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crime,
The Red Krayola,
Kaleidoscope,
The Vogues,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Can,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
Rites of Spring,
the Sonics,
The Happenings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Kenny Larkin,
Charles Mingus,
Ken Boothe,
Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Outsiders,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
K-Klass,
Skaos,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Bourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
The Gladiators,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Finger,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.