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 Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Make Up,
Carl Craig,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maurizio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Grey Daturas,
Swans,
Pere Ubu,
Cluster,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Inner City,
Procol Harum,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Malaria!,
The Smiths,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Interpol,
Bang On A Can,
Infiniti,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
Yellowson,
Das Ding,
Marvin Gaye,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
Clear Light,
Organ,
Metal Thangz,
Deadbeat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lightning Bolt,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.