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 Iraq and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Organ,
Hasil Adkins,
Accadde A,
JFA,
The Move,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
The Knickerbockers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Martian,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
E-Dancer,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
Index,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magma,
F. McDonald,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
The Dirtbombs,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed,
Lungfish,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monochrome Set,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
CMW,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
Average White Band,
Mark Hollis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Seeds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacques Brel,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.