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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
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 theremin 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry's Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mars,
Drexciya,
Sun City Girls,
Nas,
UT,
Oneida,
Godley & Creme,
Severed Heads,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
These Immortal Souls,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
Slave,
Nirvana,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sam Rivers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Adolescents,
A Certain Ratio,
The Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radiohead,
Reagan Youth,
The Index,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Anthony Braxton,
Tim Buckley,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
T.S.O.L.,
The Skatalites,
Maleditus Sound,
Q and Not U,
Barrington Levy,
Lucky Dragons,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
a-ha,
La Düsseldorf,
Easy Going,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
Pylon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.