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 Finland and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Brand Nubian to the jazz 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Man Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ronan,
Wasted Youth,
The Vogues,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun City Girls,
Jawbox,
the Germs,
John Holt,
The Stooges,
DJ Style,
Fat Boys,
Franke,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
The Angels of Light,
Mandrill,
ABC,
Sparks,
Donny Hathaway,
Letta Mbulu,
Fad Gadget,
The Knickerbockers,
Eurythmics,
The J.B.'s,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
Lucky Dragons,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oblivians,
Schoolly D,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
Lindisfarne,
Scientists,
Henry Cow,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Adolescents,
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Brick,
Circle Jerks,
Jandek,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Starr,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.