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 Chad and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Ornette Coleman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Slackers,
Section 25,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Subhumans,
Marvin Gaye,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fat Boys,
Jandek,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
In Retrospect,
The Fortunes,
U.S. Maple,
Peter and Kerry,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül,
The Modern Lovers,
Brass Construction,
Lebanon Hanover,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Fad Gadget,
The Toasters,
Connie Case,
Silicon Teens,
Rod Modell,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Clarke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Coltrane,
The Smiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Bill Wells,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quantec,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aswad,
Gabor Szabo,
Soulsonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Little Man,
Andrew Hill,
The Victims,
The Searchers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Q65,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.