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 Afghanistan and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Thompson Twins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Soul II Soul,
Carl Craig,
The Skatalites,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
Ronan,
Lyres,
Leonard Cohen,
Negative Approach,
Gang Green,
Suicide,
Procol Harum,
X-Ray Spex,
Yellowson,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
Boogie Down Productions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Arthur Verocai,
Barry Ungar,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Popol Vuh,
Sexual Harrassment,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
Ornette Coleman,
Iggy Pop,
Malaria!,
In Retrospect,
Ralphi Rosario,
Youth Brigade,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Television,
The Invisible,
Magma,
Junior Murvin,
Smog,
Yazoo,
Cameo,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.