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 Swaziland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
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 güiro 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pere Ubu,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quantec,
The Dead C,
Slick Rick,
Aswad,
Man Parrish,
The Saints,
Make Up,
K-Klass,
Hot Snakes,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Bourne,
Whodini,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
The Victims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Subhumans,
Derrick May,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Niagra,
Andrew Hill,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ituana,
Harmonia,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang of Four,
Mandrill,
Mr. Review,
Deepchord,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
China Crisis,
Blancmange,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
The Velvet Underground,
Theoretical Girls,
Carl Craig,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Barry Ungar,
Dennis Brown,
The Fall,
Spoonie Gee,
Organ,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
Peter and Kerry,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.