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 Laos and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Saccharine Trust to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Steve Hackett,
Jeff Lynne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brand Nubian,
Mars,
Minor Threat,
the Germs,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
The Black Dice,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
the Association,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Human League,
The Remains,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Normal,
Lower 48,
Von Mondo,
Inner City,
Ken Boothe,
Technova,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
Delta 5,
Arcadia,
James White and The Blacks,
Joe Finger,
Max Romeo,
Joyce Sims,
Los Fastidios,
Minnie Riperton,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Janne Schatter,
New Order,
Brothers Johnson,
The Walker Brothers,
Crash Course in Science,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Motions,
The Trojans,
The Wake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
Procol Harum,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
Joy Division,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.