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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Birthday Party to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
Rufus Thomas,
Little Man,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Seeds,
Rosa Yemen,
Oblivians,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
Ituana,
Pere Ubu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Au Pairs,
Eurythmics,
MDC,
Donny Hathaway,
Outsiders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aswad,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
Harmonia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Divine Comedy,
Easy Going,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
Josef K,
Sight & Sound,
Circle Jerks,
EPMD,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nas,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.