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 Germany 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Little Man to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
The Residents,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lakeside,
Colin Newman,
T.S.O.L.,
Faust,
The Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Prince Buster,
Pantytec,
Eddi Front,
Radio Birdman,
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Saints,
Ohio Players,
Fugazi,
June Days,
PIL,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Von Mondo,
The Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Parry Music,
June of 44,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Associates,
Sam Rivers,
Funkadelic,
Procol Harum,
Bronski Beat,
Ornette Coleman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
Rites of Spring,
Susan Cadogan,
Letta Mbulu,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
Chris Corsano,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nik Kershaw,
Flipper,
OOIOO,
Popol Vuh,
Theoretical Girls,
Brick,
Pagans,
Magazine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.