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 Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mission of Burma to the jazz 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
Gastr Del Sol,
The United States of America,
Sällskapet,
Mission of Burma,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Letta Mbulu,
Cecil Taylor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
Von Mondo,
The Birthday Party,
Jerry's Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
The Litter,
DJ Style,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Intrusion,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Happenings,
Animal Collective,
Clear Light,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tom Boy,
The Selecter,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
Qualms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cybotron,
Lucky Dragons,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Quadrant,
The Buckinghams,
Lindisfarne,
The J.B.'s,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.