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 Kuwait and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Easy Going to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker,
La Düsseldorf,
the Association,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Fraelich,
R.M.O.,
Motorama,
The Move,
The Music Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
MDC,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Michelle Simonal,
Henry Cow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Country Teasers,
The Victims,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thee Headcoats,
The Golliwogs,
UT,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Moon,
Hoover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fluxion,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
The Fall,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
H. Thieme,
Siglo XX,
Schoolly D,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
DJ Sneak,
Sister Nancy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Ice-T,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.