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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rites of Spring to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
The Human League,
Toni Rubio,
Peter & Gordon,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
Gong,
Rekid,
The Real Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun Ra,
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Residents,
Duran Duran,
Scion,
Sandy B,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Rakim,
Danielle Patucci,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Essential Logic,
The Blues Magoos,
Scan 7,
MC5,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arab on Radar,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
Albert Ayler,
The Vogues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donny Hathaway,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.