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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eli Mardock 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
This Heat,
Chrome,
Suburban Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Steve Hackett,
Erykah Badu,
Bronski Beat,
Das Ding,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Buzzcocks,
The American Breed,
Fatback Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
The Slackers,
Deadbeat,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Newcleus,
Intrusion,
Janne Schatter,
Ultra Naté,
The Index,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Halsall,
X-102,
DJ Sneak,
Bizarre Inc.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
Crooked Eye,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang On A Can,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
The Litter,
Zero Boys,
Soft Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
New Order,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.