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 Cuba and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Residents to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erasure,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Normal,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Crooked Eye,
New Order,
In Retrospect,
The Move,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
Lower 48,
Skarface,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry's Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Scion,
Fat Boys,
The Doors,
Whodini,
Kas Product,
The Pretty Things,
Sam Rivers,
Judy Mowatt,
Suburban Knight,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Bourne,
Moss Icon,
Jacob Miller,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Index,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skaos,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Camouflage,
Black Bananas,
The Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
Jandek,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Wings,
Altered Images,
Man Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.