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 Togo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Mandrill,
Roger Hodgson,
Tres Demented,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Holt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
Y Pants,
Bobby Byrd,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
Franke,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
Roxy Music,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jandek,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
The Slackers,
June Days,
Erasure,
Black Flag,
The Martian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Erykah Badu,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
The Fuzztones,
Fad Gadget,
The Residents,
K-Klass,
John Cale,
The Offenders,
Little Man,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Kayak,
Eli Mardock,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
MC5,
Crime,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.