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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 to the rock 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ken Boothe,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
Faust,
Warren Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Radiopuhelimet,
Patti Smith,
Albert Ayler,
X-101,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
X-102,
Amon Düül II,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
Unrelated Segments,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slick Rick,
Roger Hodgson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
Talk Talk,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Almond,
Make Up,
Essential Logic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Misunderstood,
Blancmange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.