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 Mauritius and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott Heron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Audionom,
Intrusion,
Television,
Derrick Morgan,
Magazine,
Chris Corsano,
Bill Wells,
Y Pants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
Fela Kuti,
The Fuzztones,
Mandrill,
The Mummies,
The Moleskins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Lucky Dragons,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Depeche Mode,
the Swans,
Von Mondo,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Glenn Branca,
Ralphi Rosario,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wolf Eyes,
Dead Boys,
The Wake,
The Cowsills,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Mills,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Bluetip,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Procol Harum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.