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 Nigeria and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Lightning Bolt to the grunge 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
Fatback Band,
Dennis Brown,
Lungfish,
FM Einheit,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television Personalities,
John Coltrane,
Average White Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joyce Sims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vladislav Delay,
Saccharine Trust,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Swans,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
David Bowie,
Eurythmics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
Rakim,
JFA,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gastr Del Sol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Invisible,
Organ,
Subhumans,
The Names,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Essential Logic,
Cameo,
Visage,
Black Bananas,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bronski Beat,
Idris Muhammad,
Franke,
Guru Guru,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.