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 Lesotho and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Rod Modell to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Swans,
Bad Manners,
Sarah Menescal,
John Foxx,
Lower 48,
The Raincoats,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Evens,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Colin Newman,
Bootsy Collins,
Derrick Morgan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
Eli Mardock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
Shoche,
Unrelated Segments,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Moby Grape,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Residents,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Idris Muhammad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Popol Vuh,
The Blues Magoos,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
La Düsseldorf,
DJ Style,
Gerry Rafferty,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Duran Duran,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skriet,
10cc,
The Remains,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Jerry's Kids,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
Derrick May,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.