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 Costa Rica and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Oneida to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Todd Terry,
The Wake,
Ronan,
Kenny Larkin,
Jacques Brel,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
Alton Ellis,
Gichy Dan,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
OOIOO,
48th St. Collective,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Index,
Franke,
Section 25,
Chris & Cosey,
Skaos,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Technova,
The Invisible,
U.S. Maple,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Mantronix,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Absolute Body Control,
Marine Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fear,
Alison Limerick,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Surgeon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
The United States of America,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
R.M.O.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joensuu 1685,
Cymande,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.