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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Agent Orange to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radio Birdman,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
The Golliwogs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Grass Roots,
Reagan Youth,
Essential Logic,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mummies,
UT,
Liliput,
DJ Style,
The Evens,
K-Klass,
The Move,
Scrapy,
Lakeside,
Sugar Minott,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Isaac Hayes,
Dawn Penn,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kas Product,
Tears for Fears,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jawbox,
Aswad,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New York Dolls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Animal Collective,
Technova,
Public Image Ltd.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joe Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Skatalites,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Erykah Badu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Spoonie Gee,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.