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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
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 Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
The Toasters,
Television,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
The Golliwogs,
The Misunderstood,
Lower 48,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Public Enemy,
Bronski Beat,
John Holt,
Wire,
Supertramp,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Bourne,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
Crispy Ambulance,
8 Eyed Spy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Standells,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy Collins,
Babytalk,
Lebanon Hanover,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tres Demented,
Wings,
Ohio Players,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neu!,
Can,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gladiators,
One Last Wish,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Christie,
Qualms,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.