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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Max Romeo to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
Pole,
Marmalade,
Harmonia,
New Order,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
H. Thieme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Green,
Inner City,
Basic Channel,
Lucky Dragons,
Smog,
Delon & Dalcan,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Womack,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears,
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Archie Shepp,
Q and Not U,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bronski Beat,
X-101,
Lindisfarne,
Wire,
Black Flag,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gap Band,
The Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacob Miller,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Crooked Eye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minutemen,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Monochrome Set,
Hardrive,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ,
The Cure,
These Immortal Souls,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.