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 Brunei and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Barracudas to the techno 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
the Swans,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Derrick Morgan,
Cameo,
Chris Corsano,
Das Ding,
The Martian,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cowsills,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
Quando Quango,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
Goldenarms,
Black Bananas,
Kurtis Blow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Offenders,
The Walker Brothers,
Chrome,
Shuggie Otis,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sound Behaviour,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Germs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Loose Ends,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brothers Johnson,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bad Manners,
Reagan Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
D'Angelo,
Matthew Halsall,
Glenn Branca,
Minutemen,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.