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 Saudi Arabia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the jazz 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Infiniti,
Funkadelic,
The Black Dice,
Crispian St. Peters,
June of 44,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Reagan Youth,
Television,
X-Ray Spex,
The Misunderstood,
Deadbeat,
Radio Birdman,
Aloha Tigers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vainqueur,
F. McDonald,
Von Mondo,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Negative Approach,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
Bill Wells,
Dave Gahan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
Pagans,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
Crispy Ambulance,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
The Fortunes,
Loose Ends,
The New Christs,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Yaz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.