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 Ghana and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bobby Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Nick Fraelich,
Mr. Review,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Inner City,
Jesper Dahlback,
Prince Buster,
Qualms,
June Days,
Bush Tetras,
Joensuu 1685,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
ABC,
The Grass Roots,
Agitation Free,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Matthew Halsall,
Wolf Eyes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The J.B.'s,
Marine Girls,
The Trojans,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Japan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Barry Ungar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
CMW,
Model 500,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
David Bowie,
Can,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Swans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stereo Dub,
The Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Duran Duran,
Average White Band,
The Doors,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.