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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Fall to the rock 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
The Cramps,
Parry Music,
Loose Ends,
Gastr Del Sol,
Icehouse,
Massinfluence,
Terry Callier,
Porter Ricks,
Morten Harket,
Yellowson,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
Spandau Ballet,
Thee Headcoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scientists,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers,
Slave,
The Invisible,
The Fortunes,
Pussy Galore,
The Busters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Real Kids,
Pylon,
Mo-Dettes,
Quantec,
Stiv Bators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Supertramp,
Deadbeat,
World's Most,
Pole,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smoke,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
The Angels of Light,
Nick Fraelich,
Warsaw,
Fat Boys,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.