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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gories,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Martian,
Archie Shepp,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Juan Atkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
China Crisis,
Swell Maps,
X-101,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Josef K,
Eli Mardock,
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
CMW,
Neu!,
Cybotron,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sonics,
Ituana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scion,
Alphaville,
Gabor Szabo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fad Gadget,
Crooked Eye,
Donald Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
Simply Red,
Agent Orange,
Amazonics,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
Mantronix,
The Last Poets,
Jandek,
Lou Reed,
Motorama,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.