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 Ghana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fluxion 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
Johnny Clarke,
Crime,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Organ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlback,
Altered Images,
Minutemen,
D'Angelo,
Flash Fearless,
Amon Düül,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
The Mummies,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Prince Buster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
48th St. Collective,
Glenn Branca,
The Birthday Party,
Television,
Roxette,
Scientists,
EPMD,
A Certain Ratio,
PIL,
David Axelrod,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
cv313,
Funky Four + One,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
The Victims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Negative Approach,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.