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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Eli Mardock to the crunk 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
The Names,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Cameo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Real Kids,
The Saints,
Funkadelic,
Neu!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
Subhumans,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Cybotron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flash Fearless,
The Monks,
Skarface,
Kool Moe Dee,
Second Layer,
R.M.O.,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Animal Collective,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Little Man,
The Golliwogs,
Whodini,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Kinks,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Schoolly D,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Con Funk Shun,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.