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 Andorra and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Urselle,
Cecil Taylor,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oneida,
OOIOO,
The Barracudas,
New Age Steppers,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Evens,
Maleditus Sound,
Agitation Free,
Connie Case,
Jacob Miller,
Arthur Verocai,
Masters at Work,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric Copeland,
Index,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
The Beau Brummels,
Scrapy,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun,
Andrew Hill,
One Last Wish,
Skarface,
Scratch Acid,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James White and The Blacks,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Pylon,
Technova,
Bad Manners,
Albert Ayler,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.