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 Bahrain and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Maurizio to the crunk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liliput,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marmalade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultra Naté,
Procol Harum,
Marine Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Trumans Water,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
Y Pants,
The Birthday Party,
Lyres,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
The Smoke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quantec,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Prince Buster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Peter and Kerry,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moby Grape,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Searchers,
The Doors,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Guru Guru,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
Todd Terry,
Ituana,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
Soul II Soul,
Ludus,
Surgeon,
Ohio Players,
The Pretty Things,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.