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 Tajikistan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sällskapet to the punk 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
X-102,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glenn Branca,
Letta Mbulu,
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Juan Atkins,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Görl,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
Ronnie Foster,
Soul II Soul,
Crash Course in Science,
Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Black Dice,
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
Andrew Hill,
The Doobie Brothers,
DNA,
Hot Snakes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Remains,
Reagan Youth,
Aswad,
Fatback Band,
Bauhaus,
The Count Five,
The Doors,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantytec,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
the Swans,
The Invisible,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
The Martian,
Japan,
B.T. Express,
Moss Icon,
Saccharine Trust,
Symarip,
John Foxx,
MDC,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry's Kids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maurizio,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.