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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar 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 New Age Steppers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
Yazoo,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Cheater Slicks,
Josef K,
Joensuu 1685,
Vladislav Delay,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mo-Dettes,
Bush Tetras,
Half Japanese,
Scrapy,
the Bar-Kays,
Visage,
Pantytec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
Au Pairs,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
Toni Rubio,
Brothers Johnson,
Drexciya,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Animal Collective,
Morten Harket,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Fear,
Scott Walker,
Steve Hackett,
Cybotron,
Alton Ellis,
Qualms,
Crooked Eye,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
Q and Not U,
Aswad,
Hardrive,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.