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 Gambia and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Gil Scott Heron to the jazz 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
Moebius,
The Real Kids,
Ten City,
Aloha Tigers,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Maleditus Sound,
Audionom,
Black Bananas,
Tom Boy,
Iggy Pop,
Donald Byrd,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Niagra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kurtis Blow,
Chrome,
Minny Pops,
Clear Light,
Alphaville,
The Leaves,
Ludus,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Invisible,
Funkadelic,
Joey Negro,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Ponytail,
Michelle Simonal,
Harmonia,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gap Band,
Intrusion,
Model 500,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jawbox,
B.T. Express,
Eden Ahbez,
Wings,
Marmalade,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
The Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blake Baxter,
Boz Scaggs,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Dark Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.