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 Austria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Pole,
Duran Duran,
The Zeros,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nirvana,
The Five Americans,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
June of 44,
Jawbox,
Bob Dylan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fluxion,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Blossom Toes,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Circle Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
Country Teasers,
Suicide,
Fatback Band,
Tubeway Army,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nik Kershaw,
John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Altered Images,
Pagans,
The Move,
The Red Krayola,
The Durutti Column,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Order,
Unrelated Segments,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Wake,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Yazoo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Amon Düül,
Popol Vuh,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.