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 Uzbekistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Nils Olav to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacques Brel,
New York Dolls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Kenny Larkin,
The Velvet Underground,
Rekid,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Glenn Branca,
Connie Case,
Curtis Mayfield,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fad Gadget,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
The Move,
Bad Manners,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
Sugar Minott,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
The New Christs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
the Normal,
The Pop Group,
Anthony Braxton,
Lower 48,
Skaos,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Carl Craig,
Interpol,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Scientists,
Sonic Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
L. Decosne,
Blossom Toes,
Banda Bassotti,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
Colin Newman,
The Buckinghams,
Sixth Finger,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Wells,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.