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 Guyana and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Evens to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Funkadelic,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
One Last Wish,
Babytalk,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Grey Daturas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang On A Can,
Isaac Hayes,
Cameo,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Ultravox,
Jacques Brel,
Y Pants,
Wasted Youth,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
E-Dancer,
Tom Boy,
Swell Maps,
the Sonics,
The Count Five,
Mandrill,
Dennis Brown,
Mo-Dettes,
These Immortal Souls,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
48th St. Collective,
Los Fastidios,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Curtis Mayfield,
MDC,
The Searchers,
Dawn Penn,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
Q65,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Newcleus,
Al Stewart,
Pussy Galore,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.