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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Slits,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Junior Murvin,
The Cure,
The Pretty Things,
the Normal,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
The Zeros,
Youth Brigade,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faust,
Audionom,
Dawn Penn,
Connie Case,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
The Slackers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Bob Dylan,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Au Pairs,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
Leonard Cohen,
China Crisis,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
The Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.