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 Toronto.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Scion,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra,
Ohio Players,
Grauzone,
The Velvet Underground,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flipper,
Fatback Band,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
The Mummies,
Unwound,
Mantronix,
DJ Sneak,
Second Layer,
Von Mondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Shoche,
Faust,
Cluster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Massinfluence,
The Red Krayola,
LL Cool J,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
Hardrive,
The Monochrome Set,
Maurizio,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
UT,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sonics,
Schoolly D,
OOIOO,
Warren Ellis,
Quadrant,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dual Sessions,
the Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
The American Breed,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
One Last Wish,
Cameo,
Bob Dylan,
The Fall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.