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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 Sonny Sharrock to the grunge 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
R.M.O.,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
the Normal,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
Thompson Twins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Trojans,
Lower 48,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
Mr. Review,
Jacob Miller,
Lucky Dragons,
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Banda Bassotti,
Underground Resistance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cal Tjader,
Scott Walker,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
The Red Krayola,
Toni Rubio,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül II,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
FM Einheit,
The Moody Blues,
Roger Hodgson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Talk Talk,
The Pretty Things,
Harry Pussy,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.