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 Belarus and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Slits to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
The Knickerbockers,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter & Gordon,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
Royal Trux,
Donald Byrd,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Machine,
Supertramp,
Gang of Four,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tubeway Army,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alphaville,
Idris Muhammad,
Flamin' Groovies,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Buzzcocks,
Grauzone,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
The Alarm Clocks,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boredoms,
Quadrant,
Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Thompson Twins,
Monolake,
The Invisible,
Arcadia,
Tears for Fears,
Pulsallama,
Flipper,
Lee Hazlewood,
Althea and Donna,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Iggy Pop,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Smooth,
Delta 5,
Public Enemy,
LL Cool J,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neu!,
Silicon Teens,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smiths,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.