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 Chad and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Unrelated Segments to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
the Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Television,
Sound Behaviour,
Schoolly D,
Lightning Bolt,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
Colin Newman,
Roger Hodgson,
Delta 5,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
Arab on Radar,
Minutemen,
Black Moon,
Ken Boothe,
The Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Techniques,
Cecil Taylor,
Minny Pops,
MC5,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Fraelich,
Andrew Hill,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Q65,
Electric Prunes,
the Association,
The Golliwogs,
Adolescents,
The Leaves,
Pole,
Slave,
Judy Mowatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Whodini,
Icehouse,
Amon Düül II,
The Gladiators,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.