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 Montenegro and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Leonard Cohen to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Germs,
Moss Icon,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
48th St. Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delta 5,
Ken Boothe,
The Misunderstood,
Soulsonic Force,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Minny Pops,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magma,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
The American Breed,
Unwound,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
T. Rex,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U,
The Toasters,
Moebius,
Archie Shepp,
Neil Young,
Roger Hodgson,
B.T. Express,
Yazoo,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kas Product,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Desert Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Bananas,
Kerri Chandler,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Easy Going,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brass Construction,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.