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 the UAE and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar 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 Glambeats Corp. to the electroclash 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warren Ellis,
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
Oblivians,
Aswad,
The Walker Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Minny Pops,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Skriet,
Glambeats Corp.,
K-Klass,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
ABC,
Eurythmics,
The Gap Band,
Soul II Soul,
Joey Negro,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
Graham Central Station,
Marine Girls,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kurtis Blow,
James White and The Blacks,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
U.S. Maple,
Althea and Donna,
Mantronix,
Animal Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rapeman,
Lightning Bolt,
The American Breed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Vainqueur,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
The Human League,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.