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 St Lucia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Durutti Column to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brothers Johnson,
Motorama,
Faust,
Royal Trux,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Funkadelic,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers,
Gong,
Hashim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unwound,
Shoche,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Iggy Pop,
Glenn Branca,
Tres Demented,
Eric Dolphy,
Anakelly,
The Monochrome Set,
Bootsy Collins,
Excepter,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Symarip,
Basic Channel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
a-ha,
China Crisis,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Kas Product,
Fad Gadget,
The Golliwogs,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.