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 Italy and from New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Human League to the funk 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Carl Craig,
Nils Olav,
E-Dancer,
10cc,
Goldenarms,
JFA,
Iggy Pop,
Popol Vuh,
Chris & Cosey,
Wolf Eyes,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Thee Headcoats,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül II,
Sällskapet,
The Martian,
Arcadia,
Japan,
The Mummies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Wire,
Sight & Sound,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Zeros,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Neil Young,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon,
Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
K-Klass,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Organ,
Country Teasers,
Rosa Yemen,
Magma,
Don Cherry,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.