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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Slits to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultravox,
The Pretty Things,
The Stooges,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Moon,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
Ten City,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chrome,
Groovy Waters,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
Glambeats Corp.,
Negative Approach,
48th St. Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Scrapy,
Slick Rick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Metal Thangz,
Audionom,
Q65,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Basic Channel,
Buzzcocks,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
Joensuu 1685,
Monolake,
Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Absolute Body Control,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kas Product,
Danielle Patucci,
Khruangbin,
Minor Threat,
Colin Newman,
June Days,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.