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 Malta and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Ponytail to the jazz 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Stooges,
Robert Hood,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Moebius,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Saccharine Trust,
The Offenders,
ABC,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Derrick May,
Yaz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Moon,
Nils Olav,
Peter and Kerry,
Animal Collective,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
The Trojans,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Sherman,
One Last Wish,
Slave,
Television Personalities,
David Bowie,
Metal Thangz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June Days,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Move,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
Bob Dylan,
Pulsallama,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barbara Tucker,
Duran Duran,
Skriet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eli Mardock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Symarip,
Rites of Spring,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.