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 Vietnam and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Joyce Sims,
Hasil Adkins,
The Human League,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harmonia,
The Names,
Stereo Dub,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Smog,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
X-Ray Spex,
Sarah Menescal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Associates,
Shoche,
Faust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Clear Light,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
Outsiders,
Thee Headcoats,
Monks,
Idris Muhammad,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monks,
The Mummies,
Young Marble Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Parry Music,
Bill Near,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
Scan 7,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Youth Brigade,
The New Christs,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mandrill,
Agent Orange,
Black Moon,
Rosa Yemen,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.