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 Yemen and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Sällskapet,
Blossom Toes,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
Stiv Bators,
Lakeside,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soul II Soul,
The Walker Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Christie,
T. Rex,
Smog,
Liliput,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
Bootsy Collins,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
KRS-One,
Radiohead,
The Music Machine,
Scion,
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aloha Tigers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Technova,
Goldenarms,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
The Motions,
The Standells,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
Bill Wells,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Althea and Donna,
Eden Ahbez,
The Raincoats,
Fad Gadget,
Suicide,
Rotary Connection,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.