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 Somalia and from Manchester.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 These Immortal Souls to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
The Buckinghams,
Mandrill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hashim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
The Dead C,
Barry Ungar,
Trumans Water,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yazoo,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Darondo,
Procol Harum,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monks,
Make Up,
Rekid,
JFA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Tremeloes,
The Wake,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nils Olav,
Minutemen,
Shoche,
Eric Copeland,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Sheep,
the Normal,
Banda Bassotti,
X-101,
Goldenarms,
Surgeon,
Pagans,
Siglo XX,
The Move,
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.