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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Gories to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
B.T. Express,
Peter and Kerry,
Fatback Band,
Blake Baxter,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
Yazoo,
The Black Dice,
Colin Newman,
Magazine,
Joyce Sims,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Tremeloes,
Main Source,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
The Cramps,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Fortunes,
Ossler,
One Last Wish,
the Association,
Infiniti,
Quando Quango,
Cameo,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cluster,
Pylon,
Oblivians,
The Walker Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
The Evens,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Sneak,
The Vogues,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Kerri Chandler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
LL Cool J,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
D'Angelo,
Schoolly D,
Hasil Adkins,
Fugazi,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare,
Ice-T,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.