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 Syria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Janne Schatter,
Ultravox,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suicide,
Goldenarms,
Radio Birdman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harmonia,
Radiopuhelimet,
Youth Brigade,
U.S. Maple,
The Sonics,
Von Mondo,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nas,
Gabor Szabo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sarah Menescal,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABBA,
Alice Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronnie Foster,
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
Lucky Dragons,
Accadde A,
Archie Shepp,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
The Raincoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound,
Al Stewart,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Standells,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.