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 Indonesia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Five Americans to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
Don Cherry,
Colin Newman,
the Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül,
Moebius,
Stiv Bators,
Make Up,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
The Victims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Franke,
T.S.O.L.,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
Moby Grape,
The Red Krayola,
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Jawbox,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
Camouflage,
Depeche Mode,
H. Thieme,
the Slits,
Tubeway Army,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Teasers,
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Infiniti,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
Unwound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn,
David Bowie,
Newcleus,
Connie Case,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.