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 Senegal and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Alarm Clocks to the punk 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Man Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Smog,
Gang Starr,
The Gladiators,
Godley & Creme,
The Slits,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
The Tremeloes,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lower 48,
Nas,
Dual Sessions,
Rapeman,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stereo Dub,
Underground Resistance,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Fraelich,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stiv Bators,
Masters at Work,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
The Saints,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
The Wake,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlback,
Babytalk,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crooked Eye,
Unwound,
Josef K,
Interpol,
the Normal,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.