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 Panama and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
Scrapy,
Alison Limerick,
Ultravox,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Rundgren,
Basic Channel,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
Ornette Coleman,
The Move,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young,
Jandek,
Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Y Pants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scan 7,
Magazine,
X-101,
Dead Boys,
Sixth Finger,
John Lydon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DNA,
Mars,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
Audionom,
Steve Hackett,
Mantronix,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Marmalade,
Sonic Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
The Monochrome Set,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Vogues,
Tom Boy,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.