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 Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rap 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
MC5,
Harpers Bizarre,
Chris Corsano,
Dead Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Motorama,
Sandy B,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
Quando Quango,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Altered Images,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Cure,
The Names,
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Depeche Mode,
Mandrill,
Rites of Spring,
A Certain Ratio,
Vainqueur,
Danielle Patucci,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Piero Umiliani,
The Blues Magoos,
Quantec,
The Moody Blues,
Joy Division,
Morten Harket,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Litter,
Howard Jones,
Mad Mike,
The Slits,
The New Christs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonic Youth,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Henry Cow,
Warren Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.