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 Jordan and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arab on Radar,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Zeros,
Fear,
Robert Hood,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nico,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scion,
Television,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Main Source,
Ludus,
Flash Fearless,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Sherman,
The Divine Comedy,
Cluster,
John Lydon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Trumans Water,
The Skatalites,
Eden Ahbez,
The Standells,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sonics,
the Swans,
Wings,
Joe Finger,
EPMD,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Rod Modell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Essential Logic,
World's Most,
Jandek,
Gong,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
Niagra,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.