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 Korea South and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the rock 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Popol Vuh,
Reagan Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Lebanon Hanover,
Steve Hackett,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
In Retrospect,
the Normal,
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
Sixth Finger,
Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Prunes,
cv313,
Grandmaster Flash,
Porter Ricks,
Stiv Bators,
Harmonia,
Nick Fraelich,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
The Stooges,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Adolescents,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Carl Craig,
Smog,
Unwound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
The Knickerbockers,
Qualms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Black Flag,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.