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 Panama and from Seoul.
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 Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 The Residents to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Country Teasers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Wake,
New Age Steppers,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Sonics,
John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Goldenarms,
The Blackbyrds,
Sight & Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sandy B,
Skarface,
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
Brick,
The Golliwogs,
PIL,
Wally Richardson,
Aswad,
Arthur Verocai,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
Tres Demented,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monochrome Set,
Newcleus,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harmonia,
Kas Product,
Quando Quango,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.