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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Names to the dance 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sugar Minott,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
Alice Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Negative Approach,
Pharoah Sanders,
Popol Vuh,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
Sarah Menescal,
Donald Byrd,
Magma,
Grauzone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cure,
The Beau Brummels,
Nas,
Camouflage,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echospace,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Adolescents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Josef K,
Slave,
Rosa Yemen,
Shuggie Otis,
Rekid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
Q65,
Bootsy Collins,
Althea and Donna,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
Hot Snakes,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Cecil Taylor,
David Bowie,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.