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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the techno 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Eve St. Jones,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
The Sonics,
New Order,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
X-101,
Peter and Kerry,
Duran Duran,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Ponytail,
Brass Construction,
Mantronix,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
E-Dancer,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Index,
D'Angelo,
The Happenings,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Halsall,
Flamin' Groovies,
Livin' Joy,
Zapp,
The Golliwogs,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang of Four,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeff Lynne,
Reuben Wilson,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Count Five,
Sarah Menescal,
10cc,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.