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 Vietnam and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 Flipper to the grunge 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
The Angels of Light,
Unrelated Segments,
The Motions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Drexciya,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Morten Harket,
The Young Rascals,
New York Dolls,
Quando Quango,
The Slackers,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
ABBA,
Alphaville,
Ituana,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Lucky Dragons,
Kenny Larkin,
The J.B.'s,
Terry Callier,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Con Funk Shun,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Duran Duran,
Alton Ellis,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Soft Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
LL Cool J,
Symarip,
Cecil Taylor,
Eli Mardock,
Underground Resistance,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
Arthur Verocai,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Pretty Things,
Faust,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.