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 Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Misunderstood to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unrelated Segments,
The Happenings,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
The Black Dice,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Liliput,
The Blackbyrds,
Graham Central Station,
Pole,
Severed Heads,
Trumans Water,
Q65,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Intrusion,
Technova,
Fatback Band,
Maurizio,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
U.S. Maple,
Ice-T,
DJ Style,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
John Cale,
The Remains,
Nirvana,
Quadrant,
The Golliwogs,
Hasil Adkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson,
Eurythmics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Excepter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fortunes,
June of 44,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tommy Roe,
The Cure,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
MC5,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.