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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
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 arpeggiator 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 Black Moon to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
Morten Harket,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
Technova,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Kinks,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Negative Approach,
Crime,
Royal Trux,
The Blues Magoos,
The J.B.'s,
Das Ding,
The Angels of Light,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
Fat Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Andrew Hill,
Dark Day,
Gong,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
Donny Hathaway,
T.S.O.L.,
Lower 48,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ponytail,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Standells,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roger Hodgson,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
The Birthday Party,
Donald Byrd,
Mission of Burma,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.