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 Iceland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
JFA,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
Bizarre Inc.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Sneak,
Smog,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
Boredoms,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
kango's stein massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
Crooked Eye,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
X-Ray Spex,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Mills,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
R.M.O.,
John Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Matthew Halsall,
The Seeds,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül,
Pussy Galore,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dark Day,
The United States of America,
Marine Girls,
Y Pants,
Siglo XX,
Television,
Groovy Waters,
Bad Manners,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
Simply Red,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultravox,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.