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 Iran 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Intrusion to the punk 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
Donald Byrd,
Gastr Del Sol,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bill Near,
Niagra,
Althea and Donna,
Eden Ahbez,
Icehouse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Franke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
The Young Rascals,
David McCallum,
The Remains,
Faust,
Das Ding,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
Oneida,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
Urselle,
The Blues Magoos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
Sarah Menescal,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Flash Fearless,
Al Stewart,
Banda Bassotti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dead C,
World's Most,
DJ Sneak,
Animal Collective,
One Last Wish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monolake,
Unrelated Segments,
Juan Atkins,
The Blackbyrds,
Sight & Sound,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.