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 El Salvador and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Dennis Brown 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
John Holt,
Skaos,
X-102,
Marine Girls,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Index,
Lakeside,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
The Pretty Things,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Susan Cadogan,
Scientists,
Alphaville,
Stereo Dub,
The Zeros,
Liliput,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Roxette,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Surgeon,
Fluxion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slick Rick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Tim Buckley,
Kas Product,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
Quadrant,
The Angels of Light,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rekid,
Public Enemy,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
The Sound,
The Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.