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 Equatorial Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Section 25 to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Hoover,
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eden Ahbez,
Technova,
Carl Craig,
The Gap Band,
The Misunderstood,
Stereo Dub,
Scientists,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thompson Twins,
Wings,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Terry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun Ra,
The Walker Brothers,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mantronix,
Gichy Dan,
a-ha,
Eric Copeland,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The J.B.'s,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Royal Trux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Erasure,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Jeru the Damaja,
Visage,
Soulsonic Force,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Half Japanese,
The Last Poets,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.