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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 the Fania All-Stars 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Lungfish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
Nico,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yaz,
Erasure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
New York Dolls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Bourne,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lakeside,
Newcleus,
Negative Approach,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
Wally Richardson,
Radiohead,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pulsallama,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Mo-Dettes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
Al Stewart,
David McCallum,
ABC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Dolphy,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.