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 Papua New Guinea and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wire to the grunge 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Reagan Youth,
Sugar Minott,
The Grass Roots,
Sonny Sharrock,
Darondo,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Techniques,
The Kinks,
Sonic Youth,
Chrome,
Radiohead,
Marvin Gaye,
Ossler,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Theoretical Girls,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funkadelic,
The Count Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Can,
Joensuu 1685,
The Raincoats,
Grey Daturas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
The Smoke,
The Knickerbockers,
The Stooges,
John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Josef K,
Aloha Tigers,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.