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 Greece and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 the Bar-Kays to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Scientists,
Ludus,
Essential Logic,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Gang Starr,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
Sister Nancy,
Albert Ayler,
Ohio Players,
Outsiders,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ornette Coleman,
Sällskapet,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cowsills,
Yaz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeff Mills,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Görl,
Ultravox,
Ultra Naté,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Section 25,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Bar-Kays,
Delta 5,
Rod Modell,
Negative Approach,
Scott Walker,
Soft Cell,
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
Little Man,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tubeway Army,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skarface,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.