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 Monaco and from London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Selecter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Ituana,
Stiv Bators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
Slave,
The Gap Band,
The United States of America,
Barrington Levy,
Darondo,
Basic Channel,
Todd Rundgren,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville,
Rotary Connection,
Porter Ricks,
The Pretty Things,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABC,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Flag,
Organ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mummies,
Donald Byrd,
Pole,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Grass Roots,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ten City,
Gang Green,
The Index,
Cal Tjader,
Shuggie Otis,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maurizio,
The Smoke,
Patti Smith,
Warsaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
The Beau Brummels,
a-ha,
Youth Brigade,
OOIOO,
The Dave Clark Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stereo Dub,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.