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 Comoros and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 The Searchers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
Barclay James Harvest,
Monks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Television Personalities,
Barry Ungar,
The Mummies,
Funky Four + One,
The Evens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Joensuu 1685,
Essential Logic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultra Naté,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Whodini,
Reuben Wilson,
Inner City,
David McCallum,
La Düsseldorf,
8 Eyed Spy,
Panda Bear,
Soul Sonic Force,
Minutemen,
The Residents,
The Misunderstood,
Joyce Sims,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moody Blues,
Eric Dolphy,
Harmonia,
the Sonics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Bar-Kays,
K-Klass,
CMW,
Ken Boothe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
Magma,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.