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 Comoros 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 Nirvana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deepchord,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
UT,
The Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Sixth Finger,
Tom Boy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reagan Youth,
The Fuzztones,
The Skatalites,
The Red Krayola,
Josef K,
Kool Moe Dee,
June of 44,
The Divine Comedy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sound,
Slave,
Nils Olav,
Brick,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Marcia Griffiths,
E-Dancer,
The Toasters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Masters at Work,
Kas Product,
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station,
Fatback Band,
Alison Limerick,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Danielle Patucci,
the Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Remains,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Duran Duran,
Moss Icon,
Pussy Galore,
The Young Rascals,
Circle Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scientists,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kenny Larkin,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.