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 Bangladesh and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 June of 44 to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
the Normal,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Y Pants,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fortunes,
The Real Kids,
The Cowsills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Count Five,
Audionom,
Scan 7,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aloha Tigers,
Monks,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
This Heat,
The Martian,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Suburban Knight,
the Soft Cell,
Animal Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nirvana,
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Arthur Verocai,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ronnie Foster,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Darondo,
the Association,
Fat Boys,
Pulsallama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Metal Thangz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
Max Romeo,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.