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 Solomon Islands and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 T.S.O.L. to the dance 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Mars,
Cecil Taylor,
Tomorrow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Das Ding,
Henry Cow,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Brand Nubian,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ludus,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Young Marble Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
Los Fastidios,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Index,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
Q and Not U,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fluxion,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
Circle Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
MDC,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-Ray Spex,
Scion,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacques Brel,
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
Lucky Dragons,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.