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 Tuvalu and from Lyon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Cowsills to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Toni Rubio,
Donald Byrd,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Swans,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rosa Yemen,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Birthday Party,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
Audionom,
Swans,
Minny Pops,
Ken Boothe,
The Fall,
The Busters,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy Collins,
Amazonics,
Tom Boy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
Black Bananas,
Soft Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
China Crisis,
Young Marble Giants,
Magazine,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cowsills,
Mandrill,
Gang Starr,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
Lungfish,
Black Sheep,
The Monks,
Wire,
Albert Ayler,
Blake Baxter,
Jawbox,
The Move,
Flash Fearless,
Todd Terry,
Oneida,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
F. McDonald,
Maurizio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.