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 Lithuania and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flash Fearless to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Brand Nubian,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reagan Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Litter,
Flash Fearless,
The Smiths,
Minor Threat,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Das Ding,
The Mojo Men,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moby Grape,
LL Cool J,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fugs,
Audionom,
The Vogues,
AZ,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
Scientists,
Neil Young,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James White and The Blacks,
Panda Bear,
JFA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barbara Tucker,
Ludus,
Siglo XX,
Skaos,
Pylon,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.