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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Flesh Eaters to the electroclash 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro 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 chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
The Motions,
Sex Pistols,
Organ,
Scion,
Audionom,
Motorama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bizarre Inc.,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
Clear Light,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Mars,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun City Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Vogues,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Juan Atkins,
Brick,
The Victims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Khruangbin,
Oblivians,
10cc,
Fad Gadget,
Parry Music,
The Zeros,
The Invisible,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
Barry Ungar,
David Bowie,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
James White and The Blacks,
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.