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 Iraq and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Flipper to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Mr. Review,
Anthony Braxton,
the Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
Nick Fraelich,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
Joe Smooth,
Vainqueur,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül II,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
It's A Beautiful Day,
In Retrospect,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fatback Band,
Massinfluence,
The Toasters,
Lalann,
Pylon,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Görl,
F. McDonald,
The Birthday Party,
Bauhaus,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
T.S.O.L.,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Brass Construction,
Make Up,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sarah Menescal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Index,
Brick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Glenn Branca,
Darondo,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.