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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 DNA to the grime 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Eve St. Jones,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
Audionom,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Faust,
Y Pants,
JFA,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
Basic Channel,
The Blues Magoos,
D'Angelo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerrie Biddell,
Little Man,
The Busters,
The Victims,
Bobby Sherman,
Janne Schatter,
Gong,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
Echospace,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Letta Mbulu,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Selecter,
Eric Dolphy,
Amazonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
Soulsonic Force,
Infiniti,
the Swans,
Bluetip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ice-T,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cymande,
Gang Starr,
Moss Icon,
Trumans Water,
Kayak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.