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 India and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Michelle Simonal to the punk 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Tremeloes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kenny Larkin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Model 500,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blossom Toes,
Urselle,
John Lydon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun City Girls,
Index,
Magma,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boredoms,
Donny Hathaway,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Kinks,
Joe Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Suburban Knight,
The Cure,
Jacob Miller,
Joensuu 1685,
Blake Baxter,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sarah Menescal,
Suicide,
Malaria!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Sheep,
Howard Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dead Boys,
Gichy Dan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Minny Pops,
JFA,
Jandek,
These Immortal Souls,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camouflage,
Letta Mbulu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Green,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.