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 Swaziland and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Charles Mingus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Scrapy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hashim,
Youth Brigade,
Echospace,
Dave Gahan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Enemy,
Desert Stars,
Toni Rubio,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mark Hollis,
Crime,
Lower 48,
Nico,
The Standells,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Schoolly D,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
The Move,
The Buckinghams,
Young Marble Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Letta Mbulu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Joy Division,
New Order,
Royal Trux,
Urselle,
Blake Baxter,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yusef Lateef,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ice-T,
Can,
Depeche Mode,
Don Cherry,
Panda Bear,
Marvin Gaye,
The Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
The Doors,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Max Romeo,
Janne Schatter,
Tubeway Army,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.