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 Lithuania and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Animal Collective to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Bush Tetras,
Ituana,
John Coltrane,
Joy Division,
The Moleskins,
Danielle Patucci,
T. Rex,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
Television Personalities,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T.S.O.L.,
Althea and Donna,
Panda Bear,
Prince Buster,
Jandek,
Jeff Mills,
Judy Mowatt,
Pole,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
Royal Trux,
Colin Newman,
The Wake,
Sun City Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Y Pants,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Dave Gahan,
Isaac Hayes,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
Model 500,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Altered Images,
Mark Hollis,
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
The Happenings,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Simply Red,
A Certain Ratio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Real Kids,
Erykah Badu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eurythmics,
Quando Quango,
The Cramps,
Wally Richardson,
Ten City,
June Days,
Thompson Twins,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.