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 Jamaica and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 The Angels of Light to the electroclash 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Mission of Burma,
ABBA,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Boz Scaggs,
CMW,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Rekid,
The Count Five,
Sam Rivers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
The Stooges,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Franke,
Lou Reed,
Eve St. Jones,
Don Cherry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lalann,
Hoover,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fluxion,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
Marmalade,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
A Certain Ratio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deakin,
The Fuzztones,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris Corsano,
Janne Schatter,
The Gap Band,
Lindisfarne,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Hood,
Massinfluence,
Aaron Thompson,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.