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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 B.T. Express to the disco 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Simply Red,
Soft Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
Quando Quango,
Shuggie Otis,
Delon & Dalcan,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
Barry Ungar,
The Doors,
The Offenders,
Blancmange,
Mr. Review,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hot Snakes,
Funky Four + One,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
The Cowsills,
Trumans Water,
Minor Threat,
Ten City,
Yazoo,
Peter and Kerry,
Mars,
Nirvana,
One Last Wish,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Panda Bear,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
U.S. Maple,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Starr,
Blossom Toes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Average White Band,
Kayak,
Intrusion,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
Das Ding,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.