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 Dominican Republic and from London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sight & Sound to the dance 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Arab on Radar,
Suicide,
Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Metal Thangz,
Deakin,
The Seeds,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Iggy Pop,
Althea and Donna,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sällskapet,
Skaos,
Youth Brigade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deepchord,
Scion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
David Bowie,
Leonard Cohen,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Intrusion,
The Busters,
Sandy B,
Glambeats Corp.,
Swans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fluxion,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
Joy Division,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Fela Kuti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unrelated Segments,
Television Personalities,
Archie Shepp,
Barbara Tucker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.