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 Monaco and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mummies,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
These Immortal Souls,
Sixth Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ice-T,
Steve Hackett,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
MC5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neu!,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arcadia,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Tres Demented,
Jawbox,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Mad Mike,
Urselle,
Ronnie Foster,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
The Pretty Things,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers,
The Smiths,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
Gabor Szabo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
UT,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
Japan,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Leaves,
Motorama,
Yusef Lateef,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
Roxy Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pierre Henry,
Michelle Simonal,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.