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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cosmic Jokers to the rap 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 Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amazonics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Darondo,
Deakin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Juan Atkins,
Blake Baxter,
Black Pus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Cameo,
Massinfluence,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Neon Judgement,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
La Düsseldorf,
Amon Düül,
Jeru the Damaja,
DNA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Angels of Light,
Pierre Henry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Fela Kuti,
Urselle,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
Stetsasonic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
Talk Talk,
The Divine Comedy,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Clarke,
UT,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ohio Players,
Crime,
Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
The Motions,
Curtis Mayfield,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.