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 Argentina and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hashim to the grime 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
Donny Hathaway,
Shoche,
The New Christs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Smooth,
DNA,
Spoonie Gee,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
John Holt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Freddie Wadling,
Bill Wells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Victims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Altered Images,
Soft Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Swell Maps,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Vladislav Delay,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
The Index,
Albert Ayler,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
Glambeats Corp.,
Symarip,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
F. McDonald,
Bang On A Can,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.