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 Egypt and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 The Buckinghams to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Angry Samoans,
Eurythmics,
H. Thieme,
Ronan,
Section 25,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed,
June of 44,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
The Young Rascals,
Echospace,
Gabor Szabo,
The Evens,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kaleidoscope,
The Move,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hashim,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
The Kinks,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kenny Larkin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Hill,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brand Nubian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Junior Murvin,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
Mars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stetsasonic,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.