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 Tonga and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Youth Brigade to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
The Victims,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Visage,
Derrick May,
Todd Rundgren,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
The Offenders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerri Chandler,
Janne Schatter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Busters,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
Pole,
Eddi Front,
The United States of America,
Rekid,
Smog,
The Neon Judgement,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
Hasil Adkins,
In Retrospect,
The Skatalites,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Sarah Menescal,
The Moody Blues,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Steve Hackett,
Sun Ra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Eric Copeland,
The Seeds,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Modern Lovers,
This Heat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ponytail,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav,
The Fall,
Inner City,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.