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 Kuwait and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dark Day to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Ossler,
Trumans Water,
Kool Moe Dee,
Faust,
The Smoke,
Shoche,
Moss Icon,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Brand Nubian,
Agitation Free,
Dead Boys,
Hardrive,
Essential Logic,
The Five Americans,
The Angels of Light,
Graham Central Station,
Sällskapet,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Slick Rick,
Morten Harket,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
Susan Cadogan,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Wyatt,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Holt,
Young Marble Giants,
Make Up,
Deadbeat,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sonics,
Dave Gahan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Swans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Los Fastidios,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.