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 Tunisia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Piero Umiliani to the punk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drexciya,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Unwound,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eli Mardock,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
Blossom Toes,
Monks,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
Chris Corsano,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
Swell Maps,
Cluster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Parrish,
The Index,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Wells,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Nils Olav,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sound,
Faust,
Eden Ahbez,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
This Heat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
Silicon Teens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.