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 Bhutan and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Cheater Slicks,
Magma,
Yazoo,
The Cowsills,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moleskins,
X-102,
Bobby Sherman,
Michelle Simonal,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Spoonie Gee,
K-Klass,
Porter Ricks,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Man Parrish,
Los Fastidios,
Patti Smith,
The Mummies,
Von Mondo,
the Soft Cell,
The Barracudas,
Subhumans,
The Move,
The Selecter,
Little Man,
The Kinks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Pantytec,
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
World's Most,
Nick Fraelich,
B.T. Express,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Quando Quango,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Guru Guru,
Eric Dolphy,
Neil Young,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cure,
The Sound,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.