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 Egypt 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 electroclash 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
H. Thieme,
OOIOO,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Nation of Ulysses,
Livin' Joy,
The Vogues,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Bill Wells,
Barrington Levy,
Yazoo,
Supertramp,
Scratch Acid,
Ronnie Foster,
Talk Talk,
Swans,
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Lynne,
Steve Hackett,
Visage,
Henry Cow,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Womack,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arcadia,
Isaac Hayes,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hoover,
Aaron Thompson,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rufus Thomas,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Marc Almond,
Ludus,
Little Man,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Excepter,
Second Layer,
Black Flag,
Neu!,
The Black Dice,
Aural Exciters,
10cc,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
La Düsseldorf,
Idris Muhammad,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.