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 Gabon and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Suburban Knight to the grunge 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Last Poets,
Parry Music,
Black Pus,
Al Stewart,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jandek,
Mission of Burma,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alton Ellis,
Can,
The Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
The Sonics,
Pantytec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
China Crisis,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unwound,
the Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Selecter,
Sarah Menescal,
EPMD,
Suicide,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Ornette Coleman,
Stiv Bators,
Television Personalities,
Marc Almond,
Ossler,
Bronski Beat,
Ronan,
Charles Mingus,
The Remains,
Massinfluence,
The Move,
Slave,
Wire,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.