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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tom Boy,
Bluetip,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fad Gadget,
Thee Headcoats,
DJ Style,
Eric Dolphy,
Eurythmics,
The Toasters,
Quando Quango,
DNA,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
Steve Hackett,
Cymande,
PIL,
Franke,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
Jacques Brel,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aloha Tigers,
Bill Wells,
Popol Vuh,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rapeman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Unwound,
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Derrick Morgan,
Stereo Dub,
Smog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echospace,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The J.B.'s,
Todd Rundgren,
Motorama,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.