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 Latvia 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Hot Snakes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Henry Cow,
Arthur Verocai,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nico,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
MC5,
Tim Buckley,
Aloha Tigers,
Excepter,
Ronan,
The Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thee Headcoats,
Visage,
The Count Five,
Flipper,
Gang of Four,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aswad,
Oneida,
The Standells,
Joey Negro,
Kurtis Blow,
Amon Düül,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
Gabor Szabo,
Bronski Beat,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jacques Brel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Halsall,
The Golliwogs,
The United States of America,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
Fatback Band,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Misunderstood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
Au Pairs,
The Cowsills,
Cameo,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.