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 Taipei.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
Steve Hackett,
Warsaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oneida,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Alice Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
Unrelated Segments,
The Golliwogs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fluxion,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division,
Subhumans,
Brick,
The Invisible,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacques Brel,
Minny Pops,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lightning Bolt,
Faraquet,
Malaria!,
Sight & Sound,
The Selecter,
Pierre Henry,
Model 500,
Lyres,
the Association,
Pulsallama,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Neil Young,
Television,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare,
Masters at Work,
Marvin Gaye,
Massinfluence,
The Dirtbombs,
Ice-T,
Reagan Youth,
Japan,
Ponytail,
a-ha,
Fela Kuti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Connie Case,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Todd Rundgren,
Toni Rubio,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.