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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Icehouse,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Unrelated Segments,
Fluxion,
Gichy Dan,
Moss Icon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
Agitation Free,
Mark Hollis,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
The American Breed,
Procol Harum,
La Düsseldorf,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
One Last Wish,
Janne Schatter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cheater Slicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
Skaos,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
Crime,
Model 500,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Rufus Thomas,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
Cymande,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camouflage,
The United States of America,
X-101,
Dawn Penn,
The Gories,
Schoolly D,
Easy Going,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Gang Dance,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.