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 Cambodia and from Lyon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Franke to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
China Crisis,
Cluster,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Vainqueur,
Peter and Kerry,
Neil Young,
Fear,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Lynne,
Motorama,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
Stetsasonic,
Dead Boys,
Ultravox,
Alphaville,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Stereo Dub,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Underground Resistance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Searchers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
John Coltrane,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
Mark Hollis,
ABC,
Interpol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Second Layer,
Sällskapet,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
Junior Murvin,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone,
Deepchord,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Happenings,
Mr. Review,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.