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 Sierra Leone and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Todd Rundgren to the crunk 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Danielle Patucci,
the Germs,
Neu!,
The Beau Brummels,
F. McDonald,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nico,
The American Breed,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Niagra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Almond,
Icehouse,
the Slits,
Al Stewart,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mad Mike,
David McCallum,
The Martian,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Hardrive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronnie Foster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Happenings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Talk Talk,
The Fuzztones,
The Remains,
The J.B.'s,
Hoover,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Delta 5,
Man Parrish,
Dead Boys,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.