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 East Timor and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Brass Construction,
John Lydon,
Thee Headcoats,
Panda Bear,
The Smoke,
Inner City,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Doors,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joyce Sims,
Sällskapet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Associates,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Skaos,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Man Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pere Ubu,
Symarip,
Jerry's Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Los Fastidios,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Pet Shop Boys,
Liliput,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Morten Harket,
Barclay James Harvest,
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
Erasure,
The Wake,
The Tremeloes,
Donny Hathaway,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Soft Cell,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.