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 Zimbabwe and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Sound to the jazz 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Godley & Creme,
The New Christs,
The Fortunes,
X-102,
Deakin,
Pussy Galore,
Donald Byrd,
Accadde A,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Age Steppers,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Dennis Brown,
The Dirtbombs,
Agitation Free,
Animal Collective,
Quando Quango,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fela Kuti,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
Grey Daturas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
Soft Machine,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool Moe Dee,
Parry Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Wells,
Qualms,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Young Rascals,
The Divine Comedy,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
cv313,
Bang On A Can,
The Stooges,
New York Dolls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monolake,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.