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 Syria and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Television 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
The Smoke,
Pulsallama,
The Toasters,
The Vogues,
Scratch Acid,
Maurizio,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
Desert Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Ponytail,
Marmalade,
New Order,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
The Evens,
Josef K,
The Fortunes,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Sällskapet,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swell Maps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Pussy Galore,
Roger Hodgson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Public Enemy,
The Music Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Make Up,
Flipper,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
Index,
Scrapy,
Bauhaus,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Buzzcocks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Wasted Youth,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Echospace,
Dark Day,
Easy Going,
Q65,
The Raincoats,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.