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 Uruguay and from London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Fuzztones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
David McCallum,
Tommy Roe,
Khruangbin,
The Leaves,
Piero Umiliani,
Erasure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiohead,
Roy Ayers,
Chris & Cosey,
June Days,
Archie Shepp,
Blossom Toes,
JFA,
Symarip,
Camouflage,
The American Breed,
Sällskapet,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dirtbombs,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Royal Trux,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Supertramp,
the Association,
Hardrive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kas Product,
Skarface,
Barclay James Harvest,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hoover,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aswad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Residents,
Joe Smooth,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Clarke,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crime,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
Connie Case,
Albert Ayler,
La Düsseldorf,
New York Dolls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.