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 Bangladesh and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Warsaw to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Moon,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nils Olav,
JFA,
Kaleidoscope,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Sarah Menescal,
Make Up,
Tom Boy,
Shoche,
Oneida,
Cameo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül II,
Kas Product,
Agent Orange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kenny Larkin,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cal Tjader,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Saints,
Brass Construction,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Whodini,
Nas,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Walker Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Faust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
The Names,
The Monochrome Set,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
The Vogues,
Pagans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aloha Tigers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.