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 Nauru and from London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
Cameo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slave,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tears for Fears,
Dual Sessions,
Public Enemy,
Amazonics,
Toni Rubio,
DJ Style,
Piero Umiliani,
The Count Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Circle Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Motions,
Barrington Levy,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacob Miller,
The Names,
Procol Harum,
Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New York Dolls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hardrive,
The Angels of Light,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
Unrelated Segments,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magazine,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.