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 Niger and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
The Pretty Things,
The Angels of Light,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Barracudas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Slackers,
kango's stein massive,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Wasted Youth,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Lalann,
The Five Americans,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Görl,
The Victims,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
Icehouse,
Jawbox,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
Smog,
Black Bananas,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
F. McDonald,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Sheep,
The Martian,
Duran Duran,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Deadbeat,
Neu!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
Simply Red,
David Axelrod,
Tim Buckley,
Pylon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.