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 Croatia and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Red Krayola to the grunge 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Desert Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
Bluetip,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
Gong,
a-ha,
Fela Kuti,
Sexual Harrassment,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
Al Stewart,
Scrapy,
Dawn Penn,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Halsall,
Silicon Teens,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donald Byrd,
Mars,
EPMD,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Letta Mbulu,
Aswad,
Bob Dylan,
Second Layer,
Cameo,
Wings,
The Neon Judgement,
Kaleidoscope,
The Golliwogs,
Kenny Larkin,
Suicide,
the Bar-Kays,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
Fat Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy Collins,
Loose Ends,
Rapeman,
The Residents,
Eurythmics,
Chrome,
Subhumans,
Vainqueur,
T.S.O.L.,
Minor Threat,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.