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 Russia and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Traffic Nightmare to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scion,
The Human League,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Iggy Pop,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cowsills,
Depeche Mode,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Procol Harum,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mad Mike,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grauzone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Style,
Prince Buster,
Josef K,
John Coltrane,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Y Pants,
Magma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantytec,
Hoover,
Donny Hathaway,
John Cale,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Boz Scaggs,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
The Standells,
Kenny Larkin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
DNA,
Sister Nancy,
Tim Buckley,
Mr. Review,
Au Pairs,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.