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 Antigua and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stockholm Monsters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Franke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Glenn Branca,
Loose Ends,
The Smoke,
H. Thieme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Bad Manners,
kango's stein massive,
The J.B.'s,
The Real Kids,
Skriet,
Gang Green,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Doors,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
Hoover,
Quantec,
Mr. Review,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Animal Collective,
Sarah Menescal,
Public Enemy,
Massinfluence,
The Golliwogs,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Flag,
Eli Mardock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Silicon Teens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slave,
Isaac Hayes,
Ronnie Foster,
Man Parrish,
Erykah Badu,
Dark Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Parry Music,
Spoonie Gee,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Max Romeo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.