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 Jamaica and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the electroclash 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Tubeway Army,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
This Heat,
Yazoo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fortunes,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
the Normal,
Buzzcocks,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Hood,
Index,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Pierre Henry,
Zapp,
Grauzone,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
The Smoke,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultravox,
Agent Orange,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
The Cure,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy Collins,
Nils Olav,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jandek,
Quantec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Leonard Cohen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Section 25,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
kango's stein massive,
Pantytec,
Technova,
Sällskapet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swans,
Minny Pops,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.