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 Guyana and from Hong Kong.
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 New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eli Mardock to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Pussy Galore,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Toasters,
Sister Nancy,
Lightning Bolt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scientists,
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Trumans Water,
Rotary Connection,
LL Cool J,
Cybotron,
Mars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Radio Birdman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Surgeon,
The Last Poets,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
Au Pairs,
The Real Kids,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cal Tjader,
Sun Ra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minnie Riperton,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ohio Players,
Mad Mike,
T. Rex,
Robert Wyatt,
Funkadelic,
The Victims,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
PIL,
The Monochrome Set,
Dual Sessions,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-101,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.