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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the techno 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
a-ha,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
Derrick Morgan,
The Birthday Party,
Mission of Burma,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
Monks,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Searchers,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
the Germs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Letta Mbulu,
Q and Not U,
Massinfluence,
The Five Americans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Pagans,
Marmalade,
Gang Starr,
Marvin Gaye,
Bad Manners,
Clear Light,
The Music Machine,
John Holt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moody Blues,
The Knickerbockers,
Metal Thangz,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Junior Murvin,
kango's stein massive,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dirtbombs,
Sugar Minott,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.