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 Colombia and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
OOIOO,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nik Kershaw,
David McCallum,
Groovy Waters,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
The Star Department,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
The Smoke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
H. Thieme,
Index,
Underground Resistance,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Human League,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Gabor Szabo,
Bush Tetras,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Joy Division,
Massinfluence,
Motorama,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nils Olav,
Lebanon Hanover,
Royal Trux,
Suicide,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
10cc,
Sex Pistols,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.