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 Tonga and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Hood to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Fluxion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Little Man,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Patti Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dead C,
JFA,
the Association,
Gang Green,
The Victims,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
Agitation Free,
Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jawbox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Delta 5,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Near,
The Searchers,
Flipper,
The Human League,
Harmonia,
The Selecter,
Freddie Wadling,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-101,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Model 500,
L. Decosne,
John Lydon,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
DJ Sneak,
Rufus Thomas,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Starr,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minor Threat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Niagra,
The Smiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxette,
Godley & Creme,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Technova,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Moon,
Eric Dolphy,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.