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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantaleimon to the crunk 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
MDC,
L. Decosne,
The Fuzztones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Dual Sessions,
Lightning Bolt,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Count Five,
Nirvana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Glambeats Corp.,
Little Man,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
the Sonics,
The Zeros,
Ash Ra Tempel,
a-ha,
John Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
Vladislav Delay,
Circle Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz,
Can,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doors,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minutemen,
Rotary Connection,
Gang of Four,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tommy Roe,
Cybotron,
The Selecter,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.