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 Netherlands and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gichy Dan to the funk 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Barrington Levy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
The Count Five,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
Das Ding,
Heaven 17,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultra Naté,
Michelle Simonal,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
KRS-One,
The Mojo Men,
Skriet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alice Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerri Chandler,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fugs,
Joy Division,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
In Retrospect,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Arthur Verocai,
Wasted Youth,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Graham Central Station,
JFA,
Mad Mike,
Sister Nancy,
Tim Buckley,
Hoover,
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Essential Logic,
The Monochrome Set,
Warsaw,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Subhumans,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.