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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
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 organ 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Ohio Players,
The New Christs,
Arthur Verocai,
Terry Callier,
Can,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang of Four,
The Star Department,
Tom Boy,
Jawbox,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
China Crisis,
Carl Craig,
Mars,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül II,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
Soul II Soul,
Groovy Waters,
Gang Gang Dance,
The American Breed,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Guru Guru,
New Order,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lucky Dragons,
Unwound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stetsasonic,
Andrew Hill,
Radiohead,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
The Fuzztones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.