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 Jamaica and from Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Zeros,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Sandy B,
John Holt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Ronnie Foster,
Vainqueur,
Joe Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Stereo Dub,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
The Invisible,
The Moleskins,
New York Dolls,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
Desert Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cymande,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Darondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerri Chandler,
Ossler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Colin Newman,
Carl Craig,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minutemen,
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
UT,
KRS-One,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Slits,
Groovy Waters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blake Baxter,
Subhumans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.