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 Taiwan and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Pus to the disco 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Real Kids,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smoke,
The Angels of Light,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
Country Teasers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Germs,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Bizarre Inc.,
Andrew Hill,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Pylon,
Pere Ubu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Move,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
Bill Wells,
Lyres,
Von Mondo,
Darondo,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Womack,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Brand Nubian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
The Fall,
Blake Baxter,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Half Japanese,
Kerri Chandler,
Kaleidoscope,
Mo-Dettes,
Average White Band,
The Golliwogs,
Wire,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cowsills,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.