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 Malta and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Pantaleimon to the jazz 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Zero Boys,
The Gap Band,
Fela Kuti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
Vainqueur,
The Smiths,
Suicide,
Anthony Braxton,
Piero Umiliani,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Wake,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heaven 17,
U.S. Maple,
T. Rex,
Letta Mbulu,
Subhumans,
David Axelrod,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Monolake,
OOIOO,
Thee Headcoats,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Television Personalities,
Goldenarms,
Joe Finger,
Slick Rick,
DJ Style,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Parry Music,
MDC,
Funky Four + One,
This Heat,
the Germs,
Peter and Kerry,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
Sam Rivers,
Los Fastidios,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Wyatt,
Youth Brigade,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.