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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chris Corsano to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moody Blues,
The Techniques,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
T.S.O.L.,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
The Move,
the Slits,
John Holt,
Robert Wyatt,
Intrusion,
Talk Talk,
Peter & Gordon,
Panda Bear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Danielle Patucci,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Grauzone,
The Invisible,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Ken Boothe,
Joyce Sims,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Banda Bassotti,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
L. Decosne,
Anakelly,
Blancmange,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
Bobby Byrd,
The Searchers,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Divine Comedy,
Connie Case,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Black Flag,
Kaleidoscope,
Eurythmics,
Marmalade,
Joe Finger,
The Happenings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
Silicon Teens,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.