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 Mongolia and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Agent Orange to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction 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?
Scientists,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
FM Einheit,
Sister Nancy,
The Real Kids,
Wire,
Deadbeat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pussy Galore,
Marvin Gaye,
Index,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cymande,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlback,
H. Thieme,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Funkadelic,
Eddi Front,
John Coltrane,
The Remains,
OOIOO,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mark Hollis,
The Zeros,
DNA,
Black Flag,
Howard Jones,
Au Pairs,
Angry Samoans,
Matthew Halsall,
Babytalk,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gichy Dan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Archie Shepp,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABBA,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Josef K,
June of 44,
Neil Young,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Hill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Urselle,
Main Source,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.