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 Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish to the rap 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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Nirvana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boredoms,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mummies,
The Golliwogs,
Procol Harum,
The Motions,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
Sonic Youth,
Flipper,
MC5,
Pantytec,
Unwound,
The Kinks,
Popol Vuh,
Don Cherry,
Stiv Bators,
Todd Terry,
The Monochrome Set,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slave,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
Archie Shepp,
Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
Kas Product,
AZ,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Steve Hackett,
Buzzcocks,
Dark Day,
a-ha,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q65,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.