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 Qatar 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the punk 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crooked Eye,
Mantronix,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Archie Shepp,
Ronnie Foster,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Subhumans,
Lungfish,
New York Dolls,
The Toasters,
The Cure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Television Personalities,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Lakeside,
Morten Harket,
OOIOO,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yusef Lateef,
Heaven 17,
The Gap Band,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Davy DMX,
Monks,
Blancmange,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Symarip,
Unwound,
Danielle Patucci,
the Normal,
Joyce Sims,
Lightning Bolt,
The Smiths,
Unrelated Segments,
The Young Rascals,
Stetsasonic,
Ultravox,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Surgeon,
Jawbox,
Fugazi,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
AZ,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
Cameo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.