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 Syria and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eddi Front,
The Last Poets,
The Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Parry Music,
Darondo,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Roger Hodgson,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Lebanon Hanover,
June Days,
Joe Smooth,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
World's Most,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Age Steppers,
T. Rex,
Adolescents,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Minny Pops,
Second Layer,
Pantytec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joyce Sims,
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spandau Ballet,
Gabor Szabo,
the Bar-Kays,
Arab on Radar,
The Gladiators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Goldenarms,
Accadde A,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Agitation Free,
Underground Resistance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joensuu 1685,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.