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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharoah Sanders to the crunk 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Jandek,
Pantytec,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
R.M.O.,
10cc,
The Young Rascals,
Essential Logic,
The Leaves,
ABC,
Vainqueur,
The Gories,
New York Dolls,
New Order,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camberwell Now,
The Barracudas,
Jeff Mills,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris Corsano,
Negative Approach,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Standells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zapp,
The Evens,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Henry Cow,
The Fire Engines,
The Fall,
PIL,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Bill Wells,
Absolute Body Control,
New Age Steppers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lyres,
Metal Thangz,
Subhumans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
Delta 5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gichy Dan,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.