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 Tuvalu and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Rundgren to the punk 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Hood,
ABBA,
Deepchord,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry's Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Symarip,
Bad Manners,
The Black Dice,
Swell Maps,
The Gap Band,
Panda Bear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oblivians,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
The Happenings,
Chrome,
The Dead C,
Warren Ellis,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unwound,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Raincoats,
Suicide,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
Essential Logic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
The Victims,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Aswad,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Simply Red,
Gang Gang Dance,
Audionom,
Steve Hackett,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
D'Angelo,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.