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 Slovakia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Yellowson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Vladislav Delay,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Trojans,
The J.B.'s,
Crooked Eye,
Joe Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Lynne,
Thompson Twins,
Neu!,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Skarface,
Rekid,
Public Enemy,
Visage,
The Pretty Things,
Blancmange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June Days,
Motorama,
The Young Rascals,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Victims,
Cecil Taylor,
The Grass Roots,
Loose Ends,
E-Dancer,
Gang Green,
Basic Channel,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Bizarre Inc.,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
The Names,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fuzztones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scan 7,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nirvana,
Michelle Simonal,
Wings,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.