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 Greece 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
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 sitar 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 Interpol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Fall,
Drexciya,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
Soft Cell,
Urselle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Prince Buster,
Lucky Dragons,
Boogie Down Productions,
Archie Shepp,
Ossler,
The Walker Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Chris & Cosey,
Q65,
Yazoo,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
Robert Hood,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
The Selecter,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monks,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Wyatt,
Skriet,
Minutemen,
Crispian St. Peters,
OOIOO,
Soulsonic Force,
Bad Manners,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rekid,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quando Quango,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
The Blackbyrds,
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
8 Eyed Spy,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Wings,
Neu!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
H. Thieme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.