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 Nauru and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eddi Front to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps,
The Durutti Column,
Prince Buster,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deepchord,
Banda Bassotti,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
Josef K,
The Selecter,
Public Enemy,
The Offenders,
Gabor Szabo,
Cecil Taylor,
Japan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Golliwogs,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mandrill,
Soul II Soul,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
The Birthday Party,
Jacob Miller,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ice-T,
Q65,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yusef Lateef,
X-101,
Charles Mingus,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
The New Christs,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.