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 Angola and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the jazz 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All the Slits 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 jazz 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Arab on Radar,
Hardrive,
Sun Ra,
Au Pairs,
the Normal,
The Fugs,
The Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
The Trojans,
Mo-Dettes,
The Misunderstood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Basic Channel,
Qualms,
Livin' Joy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Leaves,
The J.B.'s,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
The Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cure,
One Last Wish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Audionom,
Monks,
Brick,
Lou Christie,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
The Durutti Column,
Crash Course in Science,
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Khruangbin,
DNA,
The Toasters,
The Techniques,
Skarface,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
Yellowson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.