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 United Kingdom and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ken Boothe to the funk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radio Birdman,
Ronan,
Neil Young,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
The Misunderstood,
Absolute Body Control,
Television,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swans,
The Litter,
Godley & Creme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fugs,
Swell Maps,
Idris Muhammad,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
Henry Cow,
Smog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris & Cosey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Eden Ahbez,
David Axelrod,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
Sandy B,
Robert Görl,
Black Bananas,
Graham Central Station,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Wyatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Liliput,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mojo Men,
Banda Bassotti,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fuzztones,
The Five Americans,
Pagans,
Accadde A,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Urselle,
The Pop Group,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Prunes,
cv313,
Ten City,
X-101,
Alice Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.