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 Bahamas 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Deadbeat 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Animal Collective,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
The Martian,
The Fortunes,
Ituana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
B.T. Express,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
Brick,
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Isaac Hayes,
Heaven 17,
Pere Ubu,
Althea and Donna,
Section 25,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unwound,
Sex Pistols,
Kurtis Blow,
CMW,
The Velvet Underground,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sandy B,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Lynne,
Livin' Joy,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Chrome,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra,
Jacob Miller,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sight & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Depeche Mode,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mo-Dettes,
Nico,
Hashim,
EPMD,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxy Music,
Urselle,
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.