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 Korea South and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camouflage,
The Motions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pole,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
The Fire Engines,
PIL,
Outsiders,
AZ,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
Quantec,
Bob Dylan,
The Pretty Things,
Trumans Water,
Lou Christie,
Bluetip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Hill,
Faust,
Stockholm Monsters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
Magma,
Audionom,
Sun Ra,
Lyres,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
World's Most,
A Certain Ratio,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
The Misunderstood,
The Gun Club,
Soul II Soul,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.