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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grunge 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lebanon Hanover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Quadrant,
Danielle Patucci,
Andrew Hill,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
Stetsasonic,
Anthony Braxton,
The Five Americans,
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
Theoretical Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Connie Case,
Robert Görl,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
Tim Buckley,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fortunes,
Qualms,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
Tears for Fears,
Mantronix,
Neil Young,
New Age Steppers,
Laurel Aitken,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tom Boy,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Fad Gadget,
Oblivians,
Eli Mardock,
Jacob Miller,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Sneak,
Barry Ungar,
Talk Talk,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Wings,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
Isaac Hayes,
Skriet,
Icehouse,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.