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 Zambia and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Radio Birdman to the dance 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Scientists,
The Moody Blues,
Tommy Roe,
Hot Snakes,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dorothy Ashby,
June Days,
Jawbox,
The Gories,
Reuben Wilson,
Scion,
Bang On A Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oneida,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
Amazonics,
Cal Tjader,
DNA,
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Maleditus Sound,
Ten City,
Second Layer,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Martian,
Desert Stars,
Gichy Dan,
The Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minutemen,
Television Personalities,
Smog,
Alton Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Subhumans,
Circle Jerks,
Japan,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
OOIOO,
Chrome,
Deadbeat,
Barbara Tucker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rufus Thomas,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Names,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.