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 Korea North and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
T. Rex,
The New Christs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cowsills,
Black Bananas,
Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bad Manners,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-102,
The Count Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
One Last Wish,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
Aswad,
Metal Thangz,
Mission of Burma,
Grey Daturas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Zapp,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Wyatt,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
Barry Ungar,
Can,
Mars,
Wire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
Isaac Hayes,
Bronski Beat,
Adolescents,
The Black Dice,
Tubeway Army,
Surgeon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Busters,
Ludus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.