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 Benin and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lou Christie to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
MDC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joe Smooth,
The Sound,
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
World's Most,
Intrusion,
Bronski Beat,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
Y Pants,
Camouflage,
John Coltrane,
Q65,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
New York Dolls,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Panda Bear,
The Slits,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terry Callier,
Q and Not U,
Qualms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liliput,
Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Wire,
Buzzcocks,
Porter Ricks,
The Misunderstood,
John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Shuggie Otis,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
PIL,
Public Image Ltd.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
Outsiders,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Flipper,
Thee Headcoats,
The Blues Magoos,
Joy Division,
Make Up,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.