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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the disco 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Buzzcocks,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Motorama,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
Skarface,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Pus,
Procol Harum,
ABBA,
Fela Kuti,
Oneida,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Smooth,
Bill Wells,
Archie Shepp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Altered Images,
Eddi Front,
Can,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiohead,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
World's Most,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
the Germs,
Dave Gahan,
Intrusion,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
Ituana,
Sam Rivers,
A Certain Ratio,
Swans,
Smog,
The Wake,
Terry Callier,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monks,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.