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 Uzbekistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the punk 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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Massinfluence,
Quadrant,
Newcleus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Roger Hodgson,
Radio Birdman,
Tubeway Army,
Nas,
Althea and Donna,
China Crisis,
Trumans Water,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
The Toasters,
Pantytec,
DJ Style,
Barrington Levy,
Thee Headcoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
The Durutti Column,
Wings,
John Lydon,
Essential Logic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fluxion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
Robert Hood,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
Charles Mingus,
FM Einheit,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Thompson Twins,
UT,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Warsaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Boredoms,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.