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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Angry Samoans to the grime 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neu!,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
The Seeds,
The Searchers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barrington Levy,
Ronan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Q65,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
Skaos,
Soft Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Stooges,
Marc Almond,
John Holt,
the Normal,
Chris Corsano,
The Evens,
The Victims,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Association,
Maurizio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Order,
The J.B.'s,
Dual Sessions,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Slits,
Jandek,
Erasure,
Mark Hollis,
Pierre Henry,
Bang On A Can,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
Lucky Dragons,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Neil Young,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.