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 Haiti and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Little Man to the techno 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Sneak,
Gastr Del Sol,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
Gang Green,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
Anakelly,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
Roger Hodgson,
Alison Limerick,
In Retrospect,
Banda Bassotti,
Albert Ayler,
Camouflage,
Fluxion,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
Easy Going,
The Wake,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick May,
PIL,
Bobby Byrd,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonic Youth,
Minny Pops,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül,
Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
U.S. Maple,
June Days,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Motions,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
Skriet,
Godley & Creme,
Popol Vuh,
Anthony Braxton,
Dead Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.