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 Madagascar and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Mandrill to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Mr. Review,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
Arcadia,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
The Cramps,
Jacques Brel,
Aswad,
Cal Tjader,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
The Mummies,
Pulsallama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barbara Tucker,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kenny Larkin,
The Red Krayola,
The Cure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hoover,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sugar Minott,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
The Dead C,
Deepchord,
The Beau Brummels,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Brick,
The Buckinghams,
Byron Stingily,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter and Kerry,
Sister Nancy,
Arthur Verocai,
Ken Boothe,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.